Worlds Collide
by Univerce
Summary: (Title subject to change) I've recreated Lyra, evening her out a bit, and hopefully she won't end up so sueish. Now then: When given a choice, would you choose to do what you can, or stay safe at home? Reviews necessary!
1. Chapter 1

Before you read, please let me know what you think of Lyra's new outlook and persona. It'll help us all out in the long run. And if you know nothing of Lyra, then welcome! Still let me know what you think of it all.

Thank you!

_Univerce_

* * *

><p><strong>First Choice<strong>

Pretend, for a moment, like you feel that everything around you isn't right. That you don't belong where you are and that everyone around you feels the same. Now do that while being _forced_ to try and belong, be it by parents, peer pressure, the occasional guilt trip from a commercial that makes you realize you _should_ be thankful for where you are. Whatever. And _now_ throw on top of it a penchant for accidents and danger. Or, more correctly, being prone to it against your will. Hi! That's me in a nutshell.

My name is Lyra, the college student you find walking around randomly or lazing around simply because she has no idea what else to do. On occasion you might find me participating in some random junk the school would come up with, but usually solitude is my preference. Do I sound amazing or what? Not really, right? Well, life could be a lot worse at the moment.

The roommates that my school picked out for me are good people, albeit with their quirks like a Beyoncè fetish or a pink Alpaca. But still, good people with good families, from what they've told me, and raised to be kind. Ish. It really depends on whether or not you insult _them_ or the things _they love_. One guy had his head beaten over with a PVC pipe that was supposed to be inconspicuously hidden in my wardrobe. Apparently my hiding places need to be rethought up if they found my zombie apocalypse weapon of choice. At least they haven't found my security knife yet. That could be bad.

Anyway, the school I'm enrolled in is okay, despite the small town atmosphere of the city, and is exactly as my family had hoped for me. A place where drinking is hard to get by with when underage and where people know about every scandalous thing happening. The only difference between here and a truly _small_ town is that they don't know about all the amazing things happening as well. All the spreading word is kept to the terrible stuff. Idiots.

All my classes are relatively easy, with the occasional obstacle thrown in to keep the students on their toes. The professors are all well aware of the complacency that many college student develop over extended periods of time and have no qualms taking advantage of it. Then again, with the way some of the kids here on campus act, weeding out a few is probably a good idea. Just last week I caught a few girls chatting about their sex lives and who they plan on marrying. Strangely enough, they all have their eyes on super heroes. Weird much?

"Hello! Are you listening?"

To top it all off, of course, are the friends I've made through the last four years of schooling. My circle is rather small, sure, but they're all people who would happily stand out and go against the crowd instead of going with the flow. And from what they've shown me during our time together, they each manage it with a unique flare.

"Leave her alone, Eve. She's daydreaming again."

"That's the problem," Eve grumbles, having finally pulled my focus back to the real world. "She's always daydreaming. It's like her imagination is being given free reign every ten seconds!"

"It can't be that bad," Arthur denies with a grin. "She's just letting her mind find the next path. She _is_ a writer, after all."

"Which excuses nothing," a third voice jump in.

"Finally!" Eve cheers. "Someone who agrees with me."

My eyes roll at her enthusiasm. "Uncle Nick does not 'agree' with you on anything. He just doesn't think that being a writer is what fuels my spacing. More like…"

"General DNA, actually."

Arthur starts laughing as Eve frowns and pouts at the same time. It's rather funny, but my eyes have turned over my shoulder to my uncle. Strangely enough, he _isn't_ covered in a black trench coat and combat boots. Instead, he's wearing regular clothes, a tee, jeans and sunglasses, looking suited for… Oh my god, is he actually taking a vacation!?

"Just thought I'd check in on my niece," he explains quickly, probably having seen the glint in my eyes. Darn.

"Really, Uncle, you need to take a break!"

He just shakes his head. "Only when the criminals do."

"Which means never," Eve comments smugly. "You should know that better than anyone, Lyra."

"Shut it, Eve," I grumble with a huff of crossing arms.

"As entertaining as this is," my uncle interrupts before my friend can say anything else, "I need to borrow my niece for a few minutes. Maybe longer."

The two in front of me just grin and yank me from the benches we were occupying, sending me off with Uncle Nick without a second thought. Well, they _do_ deal with me an awful lot. They were bound to get tired of my nonsense eventually, although part of me was hoping it would take a bit longer. Life just isn't as fun when you have no one to torment or tease about anything. Especially if you have no one to be teased unsuccessfully by. That's one of the perks of being me – teasing doesn't really work.

"What's up, Uncle?"

"I'm sorry about this, kiddo, but it's about time," he sighs heavily. "I need to pull you out of school."

Despite how amazing that sounds, mostly because school doesn't usually agree with me, my eye widen in shock. If there was one thing my parents were insistent on in their will, it was that my education continue after high school, no matter what. Even if continuing on meant giving up a few perks like going off with my uncle to wherever. The only reason that didn't happen was because of how much my uncle respected them and their wishes. Not to mention the numerous times my mother has been proven right with her intuition and whatnot.

Thus my uncle enrolled me in a top notch college on the east coast, ignoring my protests about it, and set me up in the dorms. The move in had been a little weird, sure, and only because he had some really weirdly dressed people doing it, but overall the first year had been… God, I hate admitting this… Ugh, it was great.

"What's wrong, Uncle?"

He fixes that one good eye behind his sunglasses on me, almost trying to analyze me. "Do you remember all those people that kept coming around for me? To check on you and the university?"

"Yeah. Now that I think about it," I start musing, "isn't it about time that one guy came around? What was his name… Barton, right?"

"The usual," Uncle nods. "Do you remember the little logos that were always on their jackets and suits?"

"A silver, block-styled eagle on a black, circular background with a silver ring surrounding it… Right?"

As always when listening to my descriptions, my uncle smiles. "Impressive as usual. I still don't get why your parents didn't actually change your name to Sherlock when you were little. It suits you."

"Ha ha, Uncle Nick. Back to your point, please."

"Right… Lyra, what would you say to putting what your father taught you to good use?"

… "That depends on what you mean."

"The martial arts, kiddo. If you could, would you use what you know, what your father taught you, to do good things? Despite what those good things might require?"

Oh, tough question.

* * *

><p>"Are we sure about this?"<p>

"We aren't the ones making the choice here, Dr. Banner. However we feel, our opinions take no place in the decision. It's up to the Director and this girl he's gone to see."

"I don't think we can really tell a god 'no,' anyway. Despite how screwed up what he's asking sounds."

"My father would never ask this if he was unaware of the consequences. I promise you that. Whatever may happen to her, she will have the protection of myself and my friends so long as she is on Asgard."

"And when she isn't? Who's to say, if she does this, that he won't cheat his way through it and come after her when it's over?"

"We can sit here and debate it all we want. The fact is that Director Fury and this kid are the ones making this decision. He decided to ask her just in case, to make sure that we aren't throwing out a possibility because of our own morals."

"You sound rather upset, Barton. Any particular reason why?"

"Shut it, Stark. He's got every right to be upset. We're talking about a girl against a demigod, and a damn good liar at that. For all we know, he's manipulated this chance."

"Well, Rogers, what about you? Why are you so bent out of shape?"

"Enough, all of you!"

The entire room of heroes went silent. Standing in the door, dressed back into his usual uniform of all black, the director glares with his one good eye.

"She made her choice," he explains quietly, moving to the head of the table in the room. "Thor, come back in about a week. Her one request was to finish this semester before being… _flown_ off to 'some magical land of sparkling fairies and killer butterflies'."

"Is that what she really said?" Tony asks quickly. "'Cause if it is, I've got to meet this girl."

Thor's reaction is a bit more focused. "I shall inform my father immediately!"

"Slow down, Thor. And no, Stark, you can't meet her," Fury commands severely. "That was another request. She is to be left alone until the end of her finals for the semester. Besides, there's something else you and the good doctor will be working on in the meantime."

"Oo! Fun."

"Stark, drop the idiot routine."

"Don't ruin my fun, Romanov."

"Pay attention, all of you! Despite her going off to Asgard willingly with Thor, she has a few worries about this job she's taking. First and foremost being her own safety."

"I thought her file listed basic understanding of multiple martial arts," Bruce comments critically, looking at the file in the middle of the table. "Plus a weak mutation?"

"It does," Fury assures him. "But what good does basic martial arts do against a demigod who uses a magic glow stick? Little to nothing. She doesn't think that what we're asking will work if Thor is around her constantly, and she doesn't want to be left alone without any form of protection. That's where you and Stark come in."

Tony grins happily. "She wants us to make her a new toy!"

"No, she doesn't. Frankly, she thinks basic SHIELD equipment will suffice. But I'm not taking chances, so see what you can do. No full on suits, Stark. Minimal tech. And preferably something that will actually last in Asgard."

Bruce's brain instantly comes up with a few thoughts. "Solar powered, or at least solar charged, and portable. That really limits us, especially with only a week-long timeframe."

"Yeah, well, you get two days with her at the end of the week to see how everything works. Be happy she at least agreed to that. She isn't really one for meeting and dealing with new people," the director huffs with a pointed look to Tony.

"What?"

"So then," Thor starts, staring at the director, "she will be coming to Asgard with some form of protection for herself? I'm not sure if my father will be alright with this."

"Then it's a good thing you have a week," the director points out. "Head back to Asgard, see what you can do about that. If he says no, make him see reason. Tell him she won't help if she can't at least bring her own form of protection, whatever it may be."

Thor sits back in his chair, thinking deeply, while the briefing is adjourned. The only two who had actually been quiet during the little question and answer are the first ones out the door, easily catching Fury before he can get too far. Reasons being the girl's decision and everything she's been informed of. Not to mention the relation she has.

"Are you sure about this, sir?" Steve asks as soon as they catch him. "She's all the family you've got left. You don't have to-"

"She's over 18, Captain. And if she found out that she could have done something to help me and, in a way, the world, she would never have forgiven me. I would rather take the chance of her saying yes, which has happened, than let her be upset with me."

"But what about her parents?" Clint points out. "They wanted her to get a good degree. It was in their wills."

Director Fury sighs heavily for what he feels is the millionth time that day. "I know," he mutters. "But the thing about that part of my family is how devoted they are. You could place them in a warzone, bleeding out, with two broken legs, and hallucinating and they'd still do their best to complete their objectives."

"So that's it then?" Clint groans. "She made up her mind and there's no going back."

"That's Lyra for you," Steve sighs wearily. "So who's picking her up at the end of the week?"

"I am," Director Fury declares. "Agent Barton, you know Lyra's style better than anyone else. Go with Stark and Banner and help them with those weapons she needs. And Rogers, I want you heading over to the university first thing tomorrow morning to check in on her. I know she wants to be left alone, but something tells me she could use a friendly face around."

Both men tense immediately at the last comment. With a quick look at each other, they silently agree to bring up the subject they had avoided for the better part of a month. On the girl's request, of course. Otherwise the director would have known immediately when they found out.

"Uh, sir? Did there happen to be a guy around with dark hair, maybe five nine and wearing flashy clothes?" Rogers guesses from memory.

"Around the campus pond. Why?"

"Crap," Clint grumbles.

"He may or may not be bugging her for a date. We tried to tell her it was harassment, but she instantly claimed-"

"_Security knife,_" the three state together.

Fury rubs at his good eye, thinking this over. Lyra is definitely capable of handling herself, and that knife he gave her is known of by the campus security and everything. If something were to happen, there would be nothing at all to worry about. Except maybe the fact that the knife is a tactical knife and the guy in question has apparently been harassing his niece at what sounds like every opportunity. If it wasn't for her friends and himself being there, she very well could have been dealing with the guy at that moment as well.

"Rogers, head down there tonight. There's a safe house a few blocks from campus you can stay in. I want you spending time with her, but make it seem like…"

"Make it seem like you're her boyfriend," Clint suggests. "Gets him off her back and lets us keep an eye on her all week. New boyfriend, loads of time spent together, and a few hours off campus to ease her nerves on finals. Win, win, and win."

"Sounds good," Fury mutters, turning back down the hall. "And keep me updated."

* * *

><p>My absolute favorite flavor of ramen is the regular beef. If my baseless conclusion is correct, it happens to be the most generic version of ramen out there. Chicken happens to be too… well, chicken and the other flavors tend to be a bit more exotic. You have pork flavored, which people don't really think of, and there's also shrimp, which you would never really think to put in a flavor packet for anything processed. There are, of course, other flavors like <em>roast<em> beef and _creamy_ chicken, along with others like chili and a rather racist one called 'oriental.' But really, when you think of something like ramen, the flavor 'beef' is the first one to come to mind.

Holding a pair of chopsticks, my hand methodically moves noodles from the bowl in the other hand to my mouth. When a Japanese food place opened up near my home, my parents made a point to teach me how to use a pair of chopsticks so that, when we went, we would all be using them. They said it was just something fun to do, trying to eat a plate of food with just two sticks of wood. Eventually, after figuring out how to use them, part of me agreed. The other part was always ticked that there was leftover food on my plate.

The miracle diet called chopsticks. You can't eat as fast with them if you aren't as used to them. Over time, I got past this little obstacle.

"Yo, Ly! He's at the door," one of my roommates, a girl name Sasha, informs me when someone knocks on the door. "And he's got a bouquet of stupid flowers. Aren't yellow roses for a grandmother or something? Or was that white?"

"White is for purity, yellow is for friendship," I correct her. "Often people mistake the yellow for sick people, and in one book I read white rosebuds meant… whore? I think it was something like that…"

"You're just full of tact," my other roommate, Natalia, chuckles, her eyes glued to a portable game system. "Why don't you just use that knife already?"

Sasha agrees, aggravation clear on her face as another knock resounds through the room. With a heavy sigh, and a reassuring pat on my roommates shoulder, my hand yanks open the door to see the one person no one ever wants to. The 'secret' admirer who can't take a hint. After leaving who knows how many clues to his feelings all over my desks in class and on my room door, he finally fessed up to it. My roommates slapped him for ruining the door decs they came up with while I just told him I was flattered. Not interested, but flattered. And even though those words have left my mouth at least 15 times, he still doesn't get it.

"Hello, Joshua," I drone, starting my mental clock – he rambles on and on sometimes.

"Good evening, Lyra. Here!"

Annoyingly, he shoves the rose bouquet into my hand, which is expertly tossed behind me to Sasha, who catches them and smartly places them on my bed. It's best not to piss him off at the moment, especially with the way his tactics have been escalating. Just last week, when my friend went with me to visit my parents' graves, he came by and demanded to know where I was, or else. In simpler words, he's bordering stalker with violent tendencies.

"So, what are you up to?"

"Well-" I begin, only to stop at the sight that steps up behind him.

"What are you doing?" the newcomer asks, looking both suspicious and annoyed.

Joshua promptly turns around, coming face to face with one of the many people my uncle has watching out for me. Steve stares at the guy, dressed up in his old army jacket, a pair of jeans and the usual white t-shirt. Like always, his hair is combed neatly into that 40's hairstyle he seems to never get tired of and the only part of him that's new is his tennis shoes. It was the one thing that my roommates and I managed to get him up to date on – he actually agreed that they were far more comfortable than the things he used to wear. We all felt very proud of ourselves.

"I'm sorry, do I know you?" Joshua snips moodily. Yay, there's his real self peeking through.

"No," Steve frowns, eyes hardening, "but I think I know you. You're the guy who's been harassing Lyra since last year, aren't you?"

Despite the annoyance clear in the good captain's voice, Joshua glares right back. It's almost like he has no sense of self-preservation at the moment. Then again, considering how obsessed he seems to be, that is somewhat believable when all factors are considered. Here's a very good looking man coming to visit me that he knows little to nothing of and he finally has a chance to 'stake his claim' to the world. Dear god, this is going to suck.

"What's up, Steve?" I ask patiently, trying to defuse the problem.

"Just came to get you," he answers cheerily, completely ignoring Joshua from the second the words leave my mouth. "Was wondering if you're too busy with studying to come spend some time with me before you leave."

"Leave?" Joshua grumbles. "Leave where?"

"Nowhere," I answer quickly with a look to a sheepish Steve. "And I am a little busy with studying. My history teacher gave us a bunch of essay questions that we need to study for."

"What timeframe?" Steve questions instantly.

It's then that the realization hits me and a smile crosses my face. "World War II, actually. Would you mind too much?"

"Of course not!" he denies quickly. "Why wouldn't I want to help you out?"

That solves that problem.

"Oh my god, Lyra! Are you seriously setting up _another_ last second date!"

Wait, what?

"Seriously, if you two don't start getting these things set up ahead of time, how are we supposed to know when we can have boys over?"

What the hell are they talking about? My eyes return to my roommates, both of which have knowing and what seems to be understanding looks in their eyes. Clearly they've spotted something that I've missed, because they also have their game faces on, the ones they use for acting. Why did my roommates have to be drama students?

"It's alright," Sasha 'forgives' instantly. "We'll stick to ourselves for the night."

"Yeah, we don't need any boys to have fun," Natalia agrees, arms circling around Sasha's shoulders.

Oh, god, they're going with the lesbian act again…

"Right," Steve mutters behind me.

"Wait a second," Joshua finally demands. "What 'date?' All he did was offer some help for homework!"

"Sure, you keep thinking that," Sasha sighs. "He's so delusional," she whispers loudly to Natalia, who nods quickly.

My eyes roll at their antics. They saw a chance to get rid of him for me and they're taking it like it was free tickets to a rock concert. Thinking of that, my eyes move back to Steve, who has an innocent look on his face, slightly blushing from their little act. While his old fashioned ideals and beliefs can be adorable sometimes, his reactions can get on my nerves every so often. But the point here is that he looks far _too_ innocent right now. So either he planned this, sort of, or he was taking the chance he saw in front of him as well. Joshua has been a bit annoying over the last two years, though… What the hell…

"Can we go now?" I ask sigh. "I'm hungry and ramen noodles barely fill a growing girl."

"Oh, right," Steve perks up. "Let's get going. Grab your bag and we can work at my place."

Dear god, he made that sound so innocent despite how terrible Joshua is obviously taking it.

"What the hell?" said boy demands quickly.

Bag in hand, and key to dorm around my neck, I give a light glare to my triumphant looking roommates and step into the hallway, forcing Joshua back. Once the door is shut, Steve wastes little time in taking my bag away from me like the 40's gentleman he is.

"Ready?"

"Yup."

"Hold on a second!"

Taking pity, my eyes land on Joshua. "Yes?"

"What just happened?"

"Well…" I trail slightly, forcing myself to make the decision since he won't leave with just a slight assumption. "I'm going out with him… What else?"

Steve quickly takes hold of my hand while the guy in front of us gapes, mouth opening and closing like a fish as he scrambles for words. A few moments later, we're in the elevator and headed down toward the lobby. Once we're out of the building, my eyes stare a pointed look at the soldier, who has the decency to look a little ashamed.

"Your uncle found out and wanted it dealt with."

"He saw him this afternoon, didn't he?"

"Yeah…"

"And he figured it out with you and Clint as confirmation."

"Sorry…"

"It's alright," I sigh. "He was starting to get overbearing anyway."

* * *

><p>70 years frozen in the ocean don't seem to matter when it comes to Steve's cooking. He probably cooked this good back then as he does now. Either that, or he just has that natural talent to make a master chef absolutely jealous and women swoon. How he doesn't actually have a girlfriend is <em>beyond<em> me.

"So, this essay of yours," Steve suggests, smiling in amusement.

"Don't look at me like that," I grumble, blushing. "I'm a college student. We don't exactly eat home cooked meals that often."

Annoyingly, he laughs and points to my bag near the door. When we first stepped into the safe house that my uncle placed him in, Steve explained everything that he and the rest of his team went over in a briefing. Everything from the discussion before uncle had arrived to the weapons that Tony Stark and Bruce Banner themselves would be making. He even went over the last minute plan to deal with my guy problems at school. After that, he patiently answered each and every question I had about my uncle's work while he cooked something up in the kitchen, assuming he knew the answer to begin with. If he didn't, he told me so and gave me his best guess instead. Random side note, he just reheated some roast beef and made a new pot of mashed potatoes for me and my classic craving stomach.

"I'm supposed to write about the effects on the populations and cultures of the nations involved in the war. We're required to explain Germany as one of three nations, the other two being of our own personal choice. After that is another essay where we're asked to state and provide evidence for who won the war."

"Alright, let's start with the second one. The first is just basic research and we both know computers are not my strong point."

"Agreed…"

"Well? Let's hear it," Steve prompts, pointing to the essay. "Who won and why?"

Part of me really didn't want to answer that question because that part knew he would agree and would be extremely upset about it. Although, considering he said the 'why' part, that means defending it is allowed, right? Would he sit through the entire explanation without interrupting me out of anger and outrage? Hell, is that even possible for a veteran of World War II? They were all traumatized in some way, and Steve's only handling everything as he is because of trauma therapy provided by my uncle's organization…

"Well… Promise you'll hear me out?" I ask quietly, giving him a pleading look.

As if understanding what's about to come out of my mouth, Steve tenses and scratches at his neck.

"Alright," he agrees a few long moments later. "Just… well…"

"I'll try to make it quick," I promise. "Personally, despite what the victors of the war say and the fact that they made the treaty and 'won' the war, I believe that… _Germany_ was the real winner. Even though the other nations managed to put an end to the war with the Nagasaki and Hiroshima bombings, Germany's concentration camps succeeded in their original intention of Hitler's plans. They systematically eradicated a number of Jews and outcasts scattered through Germany and other European nations that were annexed or invaded at the time.

"Furthermore, while Germany was forced into that treaty and into working purely for the sake of the other nations, they didn't really receive much punishment. They may have been pushed into paying for the other nations' debts, but they were helped by America to regain their financial standing, eventually leading them to join two prominent, international groups: the UN and the European Union… You can blow up now…"

Steve just shakes his head. "I disagree with you on the victory part, but I do see your point. Germany didn't actually _lose_ that war… If anyone did, it was Japan."

"They're still feeling the aftereffects of the radiation," I nod sadly. "That's one of the reasons why nuclear weapons like the atom bomb have been outlawed worldwide by UN declaration…"

"You're a pretty smart kid, you know that?" Steve grins. "And pretty gutsy, too. Most SHIELD agents won't go up against me because of how scared they are of my strength."

"Yeah," I giggle. "You can be pretty intimidating."

For the rest of the night, the entirety of which I spend at the safe house at Steve's insistence, we joke back and forth about random things. Every so often we come up with some joke at Tony Stark's expense, or talk about a funny moment from our pasts. After a while, Steve just starts telling me about the 40's in general and the things he enjoyed back then. It's not every day you get to talk to a man who lived decades ago. Plus, it was pretty enlightening on all the drama and plastic surgery happening everywhere.

_Simpler times…_


	2. Chapter 2

To those who reviewed, thank you! Unlike others, you understand that being told you're doing right is inspiration and I thank you. For those who did nothing but stare at the screen blankly... At least you read it... That's good too... I still prefer reviews, though, so that'd be nice! And since there were only three last time round let's aim for five. Simple and a little initiative will help you... Heh... Avenger's Initiative! I'm hilarious.

Thank you, again!

_Univerce_

* * *

><p><strong>More Decisions<strong>

"Hi, Uncle Nick," I grin at my only family as he sits in the floor lobby.

Luckily he's only been waiting for about five minutes, in which my roommates were all too happy to inform him of Joshua's new attitude. After seeing me and Steve enjoying our time together, and by extension growing closer, he's backed off. Hopefully for a good long while.

"All done?" he asks quickly, probably unnerved by the way Sasha is nonchalantly sitting in Natalia's lap.

"Yep. And don't worry about those two. It's just an act they got off of some romance centered anime."

"Hey!" the two protest. "You aren't supposed to tell people that!"

"All my things are packed up and ready to go. I just need to load them into my car and get them back to Mom and Dad's old place-"

"Don't worry about that," Uncle interrupts me. "I've got some people ready to handle it. And your roommates said they won't be leaving until next week after their own finals so someone will be here to let them in."

Good thing all my more expensive and important things are packed into two particularly small boxes. With a knowing sigh and smile, I go to grab those two small boxes, easily stacked on top of each other and carried back to the lobby. My backpack is on my back, laptop and wires stuffed in with all my writing materials. A small black purse, holding on a female wallet with my cards and my car keys, hangs off one shoulder.

"That it?" my uncle asks skeptically. "Your mother had a lot more than that after a year at college."

"All my clothes are already in a suitcase in my car," I tell him, heading for the elevator. "Considering you probably want to get us out of here quick, I had it prepacked. Although something tells me I should have just kept it up here with these boxes."

"Really should have," Uncle Nick agrees with a smirk. "Keys?"

"Purse."

About ten minutes later, in which we traversed the front of the parking lot to my car and grabbed my bag from the trunk – "How do you pack so light?" "Dad." "Right." – before heading for a jet black sedan. With all my things placed in the back seat, where no one happens to be, surprisingly, we climb into the front and Uncle starts the drive.

Of course, no drive with my uncle is complete without at least one rant. "And if you remember any of my warnings-"

This one happened to be filled with advice.

"Avoid Tony and his incessant ways, right?"

My uncle gives me a look that has me laughing. "Steve already warned me, Uncle. We've been spending a lot of time together this week, remember?"

Uncle Nick just rolls his eye and focuses back on the road. How he has a license with his impaired sight is amazing. The fact that he's doing so well as a driver is even more so, and proves that the transportation department isn't as biased or prickish as they seem. Then again, he's unlikely to get pulled over anyway so for all I know he doesn't actually have a license and is good enough to get away with it. With that thought, my mind moves on to more important things that actually have precedence at the moment.

"Hey, Uncle?"

"What's up, kiddo," he sighs, clearly expecting the question.

"I'll be dealing with Loki… won't I?"

"Yeah, sweetheart… You will…"

No wonder he stressed the 'No' option so much.

* * *

><p>This lab is… well, extremely white. Although the splash of colors in the back is rather appealing, and overly stimulating in the room. They caught my attention instantly in the bland interior, highlighting the fact that this is 'Iron Man's' lab and invention center. This is the just my uncle has making my self-defense weapons. Note the 's' on the end of that word. Even though I told Uncle Nick that the standard grade equipment Clint probably uses would be fine, he insisted on having something else made. Mostly because he doesn't think standard equipment will be enough to help with any Loki-grade violence. He has so little faith in my skill.<p>

Anyway, my uncle left me in Clint's capable hands saying something about meeting with another guy before he drags me off to my torment. Or something similar to that. Really, he was a lot more expressive with colorful language and whatnot. One of the few, rare moments where he's not his calm, collected self and actually allows himself a moment of emotional release. He should do it more often – it's fun to watch.

"What is this supposed to be?" I ask, holding up a small, round disk with a couple wires.

"There's a strap that goes with it," Dr. Banner informs me, picking one up from a table. "You clip it on and adjust it, then connect these wires here to another piece of equipment we made. It goes with everything, really."

He shows me, item by item, the many pieces that he and his scientist friend came up with over the last week. Aside from Steve and Clint, he's the only person I've met that was at this briefing about my decision. Apparently Iron Man has a meeting that even he couldn't blast his way out of. Sucker.

"And this one?" I move on, holding up what looks like a… bracer?

"Oh, uh… We're not completely done with that one. Tony had one of his last minute ideas and, well… There's a few problems with it…"

My eyes move to the slightly skittish doctor as he stares at the item in my hand. Apparently these problems are enough to make him worry about me just holding the thing. It's not even on my arm and he looks like he wants to tackle me out of danger.

"And they are?"

"Uh…"

"Overheating, sudden activation, and the occasional short circuit explosion. Plus more!"

Dr. Banner clenches his eyes shut, looking like he just wants to disappear right now. Then again, he _has_ been dealing with an obnoxious Tony Stark for the better part of a week, so no one could really blame him if he did. There's only so much one can take when dealing with a man who most likely acts like a three year old. My uncle's almost exact words. Because of his attitude, my uncle has taken an extreme dislike to the way Stark acts on a regular basis, going as far as to hand me pepper spray when he left me with Clint.

"And you must be Tony Stark," I point out blandly, not even turning around to him.

"You must be eye patch's niece."

And now I understand the dislike.

"Sure," I grumble. "Catch."

Not caring about the side effects, the bracer in hand goes over my shoulder. Dr. Banner looks close to passing out as he watches me, and slightly green, while a yelp and a great deal of cursing sounds off behind me.

"I don't think she understood the issues, Brucey."

"Don't worry, Doc," I assure the greening man. "I pulled out the power supply."

In my held up hands is a solar battery pack, one labeled with the word 'prototype B-29' on the back. That has the man calming down quite a bit, and his skin returning to its slightly tanned luster. A grin spreads over my face as he starts to take deep breaths, obviously part of his anger management routine to stop his other half. Frankly, I rather like the good doctor's vibe. He's just got that calm aura that can make almost anyone relax. Excluding a certain idiot billionaire that needs to learn how to be something other than a show off.

"Not funny, kid," Stark huffs, walking over to stand next to his fellow scientist. "You could have made him Hulk! And all your fun new toys would have broken."

"Except they're not my new toys," I snip back at him. "I don't actually want to take anything with me except maybe my security knife. This is all my uncle's idea and I wanted nothing to do with it."

"He has good to reason to worry," Dr. Banner breathes, color back in his face. "Loki is by no means a man you want to underestimate."

All he gets from me is a shrug. "He can be as godlike as he wants around me, I still won't worship him."

Stark leans in a little closer, eyes squinting enough to make one of my own twitch. He's a bit too close for comfort, really, and my hand is twitching toward my back pocket, toward the pepper spray that hides there. It's pure luck that Clint walks in at this moment and intervenes… rather violently.

"Back off, Stark, before she castrates you."

Well, not so much violently as promising of my own violence…

"Hey, Barton," I greet him with a smile.

"What the hell?"

"Hey, kid. Take a look at your new gear?"

I nod quickly, but frown just after. "I really don't see why I need it."

Clint's laugh has me smiling again, the contagious sound easing my anxiety. Maybe that's why everything seems a bit unnecessary and pointless. My stress might be affecting my judgment at the moment, and that's never good. Last time that happened, Steve had to come to my rescue in a nightclub, blushing like a freaking tomato. That may have also had something to do with how drunk off my ass I had been.

"You don't have to see why, kid," he explain, a grin on his face. "You just have to take them with you and practice with them when you can."

"Right."

After he nods, his face straightening out, he turns to the two science nerds in the room.

"Fury wants us to go through a quick session with all her gear. Is it all ready?"

Dr. Banner starts to pack everything up into a box almost instantly. While he moves about, Clint just shrugs and mutters 'that's an okay.' It seems like all these people know and understand everything the others do, just like the team they're meant to be. Not too worried about the scientists left behind, considering my babysitter isn't, my feet carry me after Clint.

"So, why exactly did they pick me, anyway?"

He sighs heavily, still striding along to wherever. "I'm not exactly sure. Thor came back a couple weeks ago with some news about his brother. Honestly, I was hoping he'd say the guy got a death sentence, but the man was too happy for that option. Instead, he told us that this Allfather guy and his wife may have found a way to… Well, in hopes of shortening this explanation, make him good."

"Okay," I mutter blandly. "Pretty much, they're trying to make him see his errors."

"Yep."

A thought slaps me upside the head, making me grimace. "If I'm going to help this guy, that means I have to actually interact with him, doesn't it?"

"Well, yeah," Clint chuckles. "What did you think you were going to do?"

"Lecture him?" I try. "I've heard plenty of them by now to know how to do it."

While he laughs harder, my mind absently moves off to some other place to tune him out. With my feet on autopilot, it's only feels like a few seconds of daydreaming before snapping fingers in front of my face drag me back. Just like he had been asked, Clint led me into a training room, and it looks like one of the well-worn ones, too. For starters, there are tons of targets set up everywhere from the ceiling to midair with tons of holes in each. Plus the fact that there's a scorch mark in random spots all around and the number of dents in the walls. Clearly this is the Avengers' personal training space.

"Yay?"

"What do you mean?"

Skipping into the room, my feet bounce me onto one of the scorch marks on the floor. "Marks, dents, targets… Yay?"

Clint rolls his eyes at me. "Yeah, sure. Yay. Let's just get the generic junk out of the way. What do you want to start with?"

"Spar with me?" I grin.

"Your funeral," he grumbles.

* * *

><p>Tony and Bruce walk into the training room, one box in each of their hands, to see two blurs moving about the room. Well, one blur moving about while Clint dodges as much as he can. The two scientists stare on in slight fascination as the agent is sent flying by a well-placed punch to his gut. Standing in his former place, her fist now retracted as she rubs it with a grimace, is Lyra.<p>

"At least it doesn't hurt as much as sparring with Steve."

"You spar with him!?" Clint groans, climbing to his feet. "No wonder your skill went up."

Lyra shrugs noncommittally before turning to the scientists. "Now what? I've already done all the generic tests for agents, so let's get moving."

Bruce gives Tony a slightly worried look before setting his box down and pulling a piece of equipment out. It happens to be the bracer and disk that piqued her interest earlier. With almost obsessive care, he helps her snap the equipment into place on her left forearm, and the wires from the disk connect into the rim on the bracer.

"Neat," I hum. "Now what?"

"Think of it like my blaster," Tony grins. "Just aim and shoot!"

Her eyes roll at the simple explanation before taking aim and twitching by accident. In which a blast shoots out, similar to that or Iron Man's, and zips by a yelping Tony Stark. While he dashes out of the way, Lyra climbs back to her feet, recovering slowly from the kickback of the blast. Carefully, and now very wary of what is attached to her arm, she disconnects the wires and slips off the disk.

"I'm guessing this bracer thing is supposed to be a power supply?" she sighs. "No wonder you had so many problems with it."

"Yeah," Bruce chuckles. "Although, could you _not_ harm my work partner. I'll need his help to fine tune all of this for you."

She sighs lightly, handing the disk over to the man. "Yeah, yeah. He can live… for now."

"Hey!"

"Next, then," Clint suggests quickly, holding Tony in place. "We need to get through this all before Thor gets here tomorrow."

Another piece of equipment, looking strangely useless, is placed in her hands. More like piece_s_ than 'piece.' Bruce placed several little oblong shaped objects in her hand, making her grimace at the sight and sending her mind racing.

"Do I want to know?"

"Just hang on," Bruce sighs, knowing what she means.

He pulls out one more thing from the second box that Tony has yet to put down and returns swiftly. Another bracer is added to her other arm, similar in make and with another, but smaller, battery attached to it. With a quick turn of a circular design on the bracer, he steps back and joins the other three men as the objects in her hands come to life and float about. Raising an eyebrow, she looks to the scientists, one of which waves his hand with a cocky grin while the just swings an arm back and forth.

Frowning slightly, she moves her right arm back and forth, watching the shapes as they thin out into discs and start zooming about in a circle. Still swirling her arm, she changes tempo and width of her circular tracing, watching as the discs under her command copy it all. With a slight grin, she looks at the targets and flicks her arm at them.

No more targets remain in the air afterwards.

"We only managed to make two sets of them," Bruce explains quickly as he steps up to switch them off. "There's eight to a set, obviously, and there's also a belt they return to automatically when they receive the shutdown signal."

His finger taps at the circle on the bracer and the projectiles swiftly round themselves out again before zooming past and into Tony's box. Said box holder then proceeds to set down his box and pull the mentioned belt out to be seen. Simple in design, it's nothing more than the regular leather, although on each side is a collection of four oblong shapes, each waiting patiently to be called on.

"They target heat signatures, specifically, so be careful if there are _others_ around," Tony huffs, still slightly peeved at her aim as he tosses the belt to her. "They do have a setting to place specific people as friendlies, though. All of the Avengers, plus your uncle, have been labeled as that in the system. And there's a manual to show you how to add other or change that later."

"Cool. What's next?" she muses, slipping the belt around her waist.

It just barely fits, hanging lower on one side.

"This," Bruce chuckles, slightly enjoying her calm attitude.

Strangely enough, he pulls out a choker necklace and quickly slips around behind her, fastening it around her neck. With a quick tap to the pendant hanging off it, she gives him a quizzical look.

"We have a sensor for Thor to keep on him," Bruce begins.

"If your heart rate reaches abnormal levels, he will be alerted through that pendant," Tony throws out. "Everything is also solar charged. We'll show you how to work it and send some directions with you."

"Awesome. Now… I'm hungry. Anyone want ramen?"

* * *

><p>Leaning back on my hands, my eyes stare off into the sky in an attempt to put everything off. They're sending me to deal with Loki, an intergalactic terrorist with a god complex and parenting issues. Doesn't that just scream 'fun summer vacation'? Really, it doesn't sound absolutely terrible, in a way. Everyone that has talked to me has been nothing but supportive, or skeptical depending on how you look at it. Steve came by an hour ago to check in on me before Uncle sent him off on a mission and he was nothing but smiles. They were sad, yes, but still nothing but smiles. He even gave me a going away present.<p>

Which happens to be a kitten that apparently Thor said could go with.

That reminds me. Thor was supposed to actually be here today, but despite my uncle's argument he went to visit some girl in… New Mexico? Or was that just where they met? Anyway, it has me wondering how the parents could screw up the youngest child yet the oldest seems to be nothing but kind and adoring…

"A strange existence we all lead," I sigh quietly, listening to my new kitten purr as he lies on my tummy.

This same kitten is a multi-colored cat, mainly coated in brown and gray fur with black streaks going across its back and legs. Her eyes, which have only been open once the entire time, and that was when meeting her, were a vibrant mixture of gray and blue. And a very light mixture as well, so she can be my guard cat while I sleep. Yes! My cat shall be trained to be a ninja kitty and she will protect me when no one else can!

That's happening.

"I wonder what Asgard's like," I sigh. "Probably filled with the same type of people… Hmm… That actually would work, wouldn't it?"

Something with an 'a'… Amelia? Too human. Annie? Too human _and_ too girly. My cat's name must be worthy of a ninja cat! What else? Steve did suggest something about nature, considering this cat's mother gave birth while the family who owned her was out camping. He apparently picked her up from them in Central Park, too, right underneath one of the larger trees. So she revolves around nature, too… Nature and an 'a'… Nature and an 'a'…

"Screw it," I grumble. "To the internet!"

About an hour later, after kicking Tony out of my personal space and sicking Clint on him, my eyes land on a perfect name.

"Aolani… Hawaiian and means heavenly cloud… Close enough," I shrug. "Your name shall be Aolani, my ninja kitten!"

Said kitten just yawns and lazes in lap as we sit at the computer in the living room. And by computer, really it's one of the holographic screens Jarvis can make just about anywhere in the house… tower… my bad… Anyway, stroking the kitten's back, my mind drifts off again, eyes stuck intently on the sky through the window in front of me. It always feels weird when my mind spaces off to somewhere, although not a bad kind of weird. Just like the world is passing by in an instant and like there's nothing really in front of my eyes.

After what feels like a minute or so, reality snaps back into place and my eyes move to the clock on the screen still in front of me. Almost midnight… Well, crap. With a huff, I pick up my kitten, who whines in protest, and set her on my shoulder, where she clings and snuggles into my neck. A slight giggle escapes me at the feeling as my feet carry me to the elevator.

Time for bed. Hopefully tomorrow won't be too bad.

* * *

><p>It's terrible. This is absolutely terrible. A large man with blonde hair down to his shoulders has the entire box of pop tarts in his lap, scarfing down one after the other. And it happens to be the value box too, the one with around… 24, was it? My eyes can't exactly tell because he's blocking the number on the packaging from view. The worst part about all of this is that those happen to brown sugar cinnamon flavor, and that, my good sympathizers, is my favorite flavor in the world. He's eating the entire box of who knows how many pop tarts by himself and they all happen to be my favorite flavor.<p>

"Clint!" I whine. "He's eating them all!"

"Oh, no," said agent groans as he walks into the room. "Thor! Did that box have a note on it?"

'Thor' looks up from his scarfing of food and then look over the box before his eyes widen. Clearly it does and clearly he did not see it. As he puts down his latest pack of food and snatches the note up from the box, my eyes roll at his obliviousness. This guy is supposed to be a hero. When his eyes widen, my eye roll again.

"I apologize! I did not realize-"

My fingers pluck the note from his hand, silencing him for a few moments as my eyes skim and absorb the message.

"Don't worry about it, thunder god," I chuckle. "Like the note says, they're all yours except one pack."

And with that settled, my hand dives into the box and snatches one out.

"This is that pack."

Quickly placing the open pack on the couch back in his hands, my feet carry me towards the elevator. With a pointed look to Clint, he's soon following after me and one button press later finds us on our way to the Research and Development lab. Jarvis woke me up this morning saying the science duo needs me to finalize any changes before Thor drags me off to Asgard. Their exact wording right there, too. Anyway, they apparently came up with a few modifications to some of the gear – more last second ideas from Stark. Awesome.

"I'm here!" I call out as the elevator doors open. "Now what am I testing out and what am I aiming at?"

"This!" Stark grins, holding up a… pole?

My unamused eyes stare into his. "You're giving me a stick?"

"No," Bruce sighs, placing the bracers into a briefcase. "That 'stick' is what's referred to as a bo-staff. Clint suggested it yesterday to Fury and Tony thought it would be a good idea to take one of SHIELD's and, uh… _upgrade_ it."

"What did you do now?" I groan. "Wasn't making me your downgraded blaster from your suit enough fun for you?"

Stark shakes his head with a sigh. "That isn't a downgraded version, kid. That's full power. And no, it wasn't. Besides, Fury doesn't think regular grade equipment is enough for you, so he said to experiment with it. And I did. A lot."

"That particular bo-staff is now capable of emiting electric shocks, enough to put down a grown man, at least," Bruce sighs. "If not a rhino."

I almost didn't hear that last part, he mumbled it so quietly. Staring at the stick for a moment, my mind starts to go through a quick thought pattern before my hands snatch it from Clint. First was 'oh my god, a rhino!' swiftly followed by 'paralysis, too, right?' and then immediately finished up by 'MUST! HAVE!' Now it's twirling in my fingers, a spark or two flicking of the end to land in random places.

"Shut that off!" stark panics, clumsily taking it from my reach.

After a few fumbles with it, he presses that weird button in the middle, which apparently my own fingers accidently found and clicked. So, that's how that works! My hands constantly reach out to the stick, Stark slapping away my hands every time. After the first few, my mouth forms a pout as he keeps it up. No part of me bother to acknowledge the chuckles from nearby as anything more than stupid people being stupid. Laugh all you want, guys, that stick will be mine and it will be used to cause severe amounts of damage!

"Stick!" I whine.

"Bo-staff!" Stark barks back.

"Stick!" Reach.

"Bo-staff!" Slap.

"Stick!" Reach.

"Bo-staff!" Slap.

"Stick!" Reach.

"Bo-staff!" Slap.

"What are you doing?"

My attention turns to the door in a second. "Hi, Uncle! He won't give me the stick."

"Bo-staff," Uncle quickly corrects me. "And quit screwing around, Stark. Thor will be ready to leave in a half hour. We don't have time for your games."

With a triumphant smirk, my hand snatches the bo-staff from Stark's hands, cuddling it happily once it's safely in my grip. My stick. I now have a several foot stick – take that, you stupid and messed up roommates! Your test of bullshit proportions was wrong! The person in that room with the longest stick is me! Winning is fun.

"Alright, now that that's over with," Uncle sighs. "Anything else?"

"Just one," Bruce replies quickly, picking up a belt from the table. "there are few other tricks built into that staff, but there's a manual printing right now that's going with you, so it doesn't have to be explained. Here," and he hands me the belt… _s?_ "The staff separates into multiple segments, four if you break them down to the smallest sizes. The belts strap around your thighs to hold them."

"I'm just getting armed to the teeth, aren't I?" I chuckle, strapping the belts in place. "And this breaks like…"

After a few light bends, the bo-staff comes apart and slips into place, two sections to each thigh. With a grin on my face, my feet bound me over to the packed up briefcase to see everything there. The second set of projectiles, most likely fully charged, plus an extra set of bracers and another blaster disc. Then there's also a set of replacement bo-staff pieces plus what looks like a set of-

"Armor?"

"Yeah," Clint nods. "Nothing too special. Thor said a few of the other worlds are getting antsy with Loki's… _punishment_ and some are threatening the place. That stuff is standard grade SHIELD armor – lightweight, easy to move in. Think of it as a female version of the stuff I wear."

"No sleeves and regular pants?"

"Pretty much," Bruce nods, looking thoughtful. "All the other equipment doesn't work for you, so that should be everything."

Everyone's eyes turn to see a set of other equipment left out and being taken apart, insides scattered everywhere. Among the pieces is what once resembled a sword, electrically charged much like the bo-staff but far too… _old school_ for my liking. Another piece is a shield, an attempt at replicating Steve's, and another is a bow that Clint thought would be a good fit for me. It's not that is _wasn't_, per say, but my aim just isn't as good as would probably be necessary. Everything else about it, from the stun properties and rubber grip for resistance to said stun, was perfectly fine. That thought drags my eyes to see a similar rubber grip on the bo-staff pieces.

Stun properties with electric charges that have enough power to take down a rhino… Awesome…

"So, that's everything then," I shrug. "My security knife and its holster are in my suitcase upstairs, too, so that covers those blind moments."

"Good," my uncle nods. "And it looks like everything else is already strapped on," he observes, looking over my form.

Knowing that today would be the day, I went ahead and locked all the pieces form yesterday into place this morning. Aolani had watched with little interest except meowing for attention. She's so adorable.

"Alright, let's go!" I grin. "I've got a vacation to enjoy."

"This isn't all play, Lyra," my uncle scolds me. "You're going to deal with a criminal who's insane enough to take on SHIELD and the Avengers. Don't forget that."

"And you forget, Uncle Nick," I sigh. "He can be as godly as he wants in front of me.

_"__I still won't kneel."_


	3. Chapter 3

Hello, all! Welcome back! For today, we have a healthy serving of confidence and anxiety. Do enjoy! Before you do, though, remember that I'll need at least ten reviews for today! And in case this wasn't clear last time, that's meant in total! You're at six right now...

Thank you to those who review/ed!

_Univerce_

* * *

><p><strong>Asgard<strong>

For some reason we're driving out to New Mexico for this little trip of mine. Clint and Steve are in the car with me and my Uncle, the three of us non-directors sitting in the back two rows of the jet black SUV. Thor, Stark and Bruce are in the one right behind us, apparently with the last member of the Avengers driving. Originally, Thor had wanted me to ride with his group, to get to know me, but he let me go with my uncle when my puppy eyes came out full force. What can I say? I wanted to spend my last few hours on Earth with the people I know and love. Yes, all three of the people in the car with me, whose names are known, count.

"Make sure to take some pictures," Steve grins. "I want to see what this place is like."

"Of course," I smile at him. "Why wouldn't I?"

"Maybe the camera doesn't work," Clint chuckles. "You'll probably break it before you can take a single picture."

A smirk crosses my face at his lack of faith. "Good thing the good doctor gave me one of Stark's then. Acts like a pair of half sunglasses. Fits around my ear, latches into place, indestructible and has a screen and camera attached. I can watch movies while I'm there."

The agent's grin falls dramatically into a frown as he mutters under his breath. After a few more hours of driving, in which there is constant teasing and slight bickering, we pull over and everyone climbs out. Strangely enough, there's a couple girls working on something here as well, although only the one actually moving around seems interested. And if my memory serves right, and Uncle Nick's little infomercial minus the 'mercial' part isn't wrong, that makes her-

"Jane!"

Yep. That's her alright.

"Thor!" she grins, handing her notebook and pencil off to the other girl.

While those two hug out whatever their feels are, my direction keep me following my uncle, Clint and Steve on either side of me. Why does this feel like they've currently got me under high level security? All three of them stick close to me as the god of thunder lets got of his girlfriend and strides over to us. Absently, my eyes examine the circle we stand on, memorizing every detail for future reference. That is, assuming referencing the thing would be necessary in the future. Anyway, everything from the Nordic symbols to the strange feel this circle gives off.

It's all cataloged.

"Are we ready?" Thor asks, his face set in a serious expression as he joins us on the magical circle of magic.

Heh.

"Yep," I nod. "Unless anyone has anything they'd like me to know?"

Bruce is jogging up to the circle, just in time to stop Thor from shooing away my uncle and 'security team.' In his hands is… that choker necklace… and my suitcase… Whoops!

"You almost forgot this," the doctor smiles holding out the necklace to me.

"Thanks, Doc," I grin. "This is why I love the color green."

Hilariously, he freezes up while my fingers fasten the choker into place, watching as Bruce also hands the thunder god some weird bracelet to slip on and my suitcase. While he explains how that toy works, which is simply 'a vibration means save her, you dumbass!' or something similar, my eyes take in the sky one more time. My sky, the very sky that my mother always told me was _not_ the limit. _Your limit is far past that, even further than the stars._

Always optimistic.

"Very well, then," are the words from Thor that drag my attention back to the ground. "Are you ready, Lady Lyra?"

His smile is slightly infectious, pulling a nervous one onto my own face while nodding. Steve hands off a familiar briefcase and a carrier, which gives of a soft meow, as he and Clint give me a quick hug. Uncle Nick settles for a pat on the head, making me whine and swat his hand away. Chuckling at me, my uncle and security team back up from the circle, taking Jane's advice as she calls out from a 'safe distance.' With everyone over there, including an unnamed ginger agent standing next to Clint, Thor's booming voice has me flinching, wishing it was possible to cover my ears.

"Heimdall!"

And the colors of the rainbow dance before my eyes.

* * *

><p>"I did not think this would be a problem," Thor explains guiltily, picking the girl up from the platform. "Her uncle explained to us her mutation – it should have been perfectly safe."<p>

"Do not fear, my prince," Heimdall assures him with a pat on the shoulder. "She is fine. All that must be worried about is waking her. The healers can fix whatever may have gone wrong."

A soft grumble has the two men looking at the girl in Thor's arms. For a moment, it had sounded like she said something, although they brush it off as sleep-talking considering her condition. Heimdall's stare returns to the vast stars as the thought is pushed from his mind.

"All she will need is some rest."

"I don't 'rest,' dammit!" she snaps, jumping awake. "No Fury ever needs rest!"

Thor, out of shock, nearly drops her. The jostle alerts her to his presence, along with the fact that he's currently carrying her bridal style. Stiffening, she carefully climbs from his arms, him gently placing her back down. A soft cry has her gaze snapping to a cat carrier as a shaking kitten peeks out from her safe haven of blankets.

"Oh, I'm sorry Aolani! I still love you!" the girl panics, rushing to the carrier.

Almost immediately, the cat starts to purr, reveling in her master's touch as she's freed from her carrier and placed on the girl's shoulder. With a light giggle, the girl picks up both carrier, now locked once more, and briefcase of equipment. Turning back with a grin, she looks absolutely healthy, nowhere near as pale as she had a minute ago nor seeming close to death. Both men feel a slight confusion at this, although Heimdall's all-seeing nature clears it up for him as her uncle's voice reaches him.

"Your uncle wishes you luck, child," Heimdall informs her, keeping the rest to himself. "As does the rest of Asgard."

And truly, as gossip of the now criminal prince's 'reform' spread, people had been looking for the telltale arrival of the poor girl to deal with him. From the view at the Bifrost, far down the rainbow bridge, it seemed like no citizen had missed the scene of their crowned prince's return. It would be even harder for them to miss the girl that would be walking with him.

Luckily, hordes of people won't be a problem. As the two of them stride down the bridge toward Asgard, both with smiles on their faces, a set of figures stops their advance. Standing there, and waiting on them, is a group of warriors, only one female. The imbalance of women in the group has the girl frowning slightly as Thor laughs and quickly moves ahead. Slightly more wary of this bunch, his charge moves a little more slowly.

While the god of thunder embraces and speaks happily with the men there, the two girls stand in front of each other. All they do is stare into each other's eyes. That's it, just stare. And from just that, the two smile and, after a briefcase and carrier are put down, embrace.

"Pleased to meet you!" the girl giggles. "Nice to know I'm not the only girl who kicks ass."

"It is a pleasure for me as well," the woman laughs. "For a moment, I had thought the girl we would be relying on would not know a weapon's feel. You are a very pleasant surprise!"

The girls grins widely, letting her new friend go and smirking at the sight. Aolani has climbed between the two, resting on the woman's shoulder and snuggling into her neck. A chuckle escapes the warrior as she strokes the kitten's head before handing the small animal back to her owner, who snuggles the kitten happily.

"A fair friend, you have," the woman laughs, watching in amusement. "I am Sif, warrior of Asgard."

"The name's Lyra," the girl grins, kitten climbing onto her shoulder. "Ass kicker of Earth."

* * *

><p>Pleasantries, growling stomachs, a couple slaps to a womanizer's face and a silent stare down with a Japanese looking man leads me to walking with the entire entourage. Thor is happily spewing out nonsense about Asgard to me, while Sif actually keeps me interested by letting me know where all the important stuff is. Things like the blacksmith, which none of these people use since the palace apparently has its own, and clothes shops, mostly. Every so often is a place that has a stall of jewelry set up in front of it, all of which catch my eyes. All of these things would be perfect gifts for the few girl friends from back home.<p>

"I see you're not just a warrior," Sif sighs. "Try not to be too distracted while we walk."

As it turns out, the boys barely notice the two of us falling behind slightly as my eyes take everything in. They keep their pace, Thor leading the way loudly still with my suitcase in hand as we attempt to keep up with their widening strides. While Sif could probably keep up with them, clearly they don't realize that someone who isn't used to this pace is trying to also. At least she's kind enough to stick back with me.

"They need to slow down," Sif hisses, eyes flickering back and forth.

"Why?" I huff. "Clearly they're having fun. I say leave them be if they want to dance to a different tune. It's been forever since someone normal has talked to me."

Sif chuckles lightly. "You call me 'normal?' That is something not many would say."

"Normal to me," I shrug. "You do know that both my parents were adamant about martial arts, right? And that my uncle runs a government agency that specializes in something similar to what you do?"

"Yes," she hums. "I believe Thor said it was called… shield? A strange name for any gathering of people."

"Not really. SHIELD is an acronym for something that my brain said 'screw it' to remembering. In fact, I don't think my uncle even knows what it means," I laugh at the thought.

"Really?" she says absently, eyes still flickering.

My nerves start to wear at the action. "Is something wrong? Should we be going faster than this?" I ask quietly, my own eyes moving about curiously.

The good things about being a tourist.

"I am unsure, to be honest. Not everyone is happy you have come," Sif explains back, just as quietly. "It would be best if we hurry."

She takes the carrier from my hands and switches it the far arm, quickly taking my now free hand to pull me along faster. As we move forward, my eyes only now catch the stares and moving mouths around us. Each one is either curious or cruel, but not one shows any form of kindness you would expect to be shown toward someone attempting to help. Clearly, Sif was right and not everyone feels a form of relief at my presence, if anyone at all. Well, this might complicate things a bit, won't it? So much for exploring Asgard…

"Sif?" I ask quietly, trying to keep my feet beneath me as we hurry. "Why aren't they happy with me being here?"

Her quiet sigh has me cringing, somewhat expecting what's about to come out of her mouth. Loki _is_ an intergalactic terrorist – no doubt some people would rather him be dead than given a second chance. And what's more, they brought an outsider into the midst of it all to hopefully give him that second chance as well.

"Surely you can think of a reason," she replies quietly as the boys come back into view.

Thor's eyes land on us as he frantically searches the crowd, the panic in his eyes disappearing almost immediately. Sif gives them all a glare, one that I don't have enough in me to imitate as they all flinch and give soft apologies. With the group gathered back up, we start our trek towards the palace once more, only this time the boys stay close enough that we girls aren't racing after them. Carrier back in my hand, after giving Sif a blank look as she attempted to give me unnecessary help, my smile has returned, albeit weaker. When you know that people don't like you, it tends to put a damper on things, especially if you only just got there.

"This is it, Lady Lyra!" Thor proclaims, gesturing to a number of steps ahead of us.

Holy crap, we have to walk all of that!? Who the hell designed this place? Sif's chuckle has me turning a light glare to her, and while she attempts to choke back her laugh, the smile still makes it through.

"Don't laugh at my pain," I grumble. "It's not nice… and very unwise…"

While the boys shiver, Sif only clenches her eyes shut, shoulders shaking. This is why being me sucks so much. People see me and think 'adorable!' with my shining eyes and childlike appearance. No, I'm not _that_ small – my face just maintains my youth very well. In fact, I'm pretty well developed, to be honest, and that's me going by other people's words. Thanks to Photoshop and magazines, it feels like I'm not developed enough.

At least that hasn't inspired me to get implants. My mother actually set aside an account if that ever came true – Graduation present…

After much climbing, and refusing to let the others help me while my kitten climbed on her own as well, we reach the top. Well, almost all of us do. My kitten is still a few steps down after having boldly kept up with us to the best of her ability. On the second to last step, she flops down on her tummy and meows in protest to moving any further. With a soft 'aww!' I can't help but skip back to the step and pick up my kitty, placing her back on my shoulder. She meows a few more times, not even moving as she digs her nails into my shirt and bra strap. Adorable!

"She's so cute," I giggle, picking my things back up.

Well, I would have if Hogun, the Japanese guy, and Fandral hadn't grabbed them.

"Hey!" I whine.

"Lady Lyra, please," Thor laughs. "You still need energy to meet with my father!"

Oh no. "Do I have to? I feel like a nap would be a better idea right now," I sigh, fighting back a yawn. "And my body says so, too."

"It will be short, I promise," Thor assures me, patting my unoccupied shoulder.

Aolani meow softly into my ear, purring quietly in content as my feet trail after the boys, Sif chuckling at my side. Okay, if anyone every goes out into town with me, it better be her and no one else. These boys will probably demand me to go easy and ask me to play princess while out and about, and that is_ not_ happening.

"Too much walking," I grumble, doing my best to ignore Sif's laughter. "Stop laughing at my pain!"

One thankfully short walk later has us standing in front of a pair of large, ornate doors. A pair of doors that Thor looks at with slight nervousness. From mere guessing, this is either where his father, Odin, is or someone else really important. Or he just looks nervous because he's weird like that – definitely a possibility.

"Well?" I ask him, face blank. "What's the matter?"

My little kitten mews from her perch, and out of pure nonsense in my head, my arms raises toward his shoulder. Aolani quickly scampers along it, my limb shaking a bit from the sudden movement of weight, and pounces onto his shoulder. With a jolt, Thor's eyes turn to said shoulder and the kitten perched there, purring. It's such an endearing, sight, I just can't help but pull that awesome camera from my belt and slip it on. A few seconds later, the sight of the thunder god grinning at a kitten on his shoulder is captured, along with a laughing trio of men behind him, before quickly turning to capture Sif laughing.

Feeling much better now that my camera has been used, the gear is slipped onto my belt and the kitten collected. With a grin to Thor, who seems to be much more confident now, I gesture to the door. While a small amount of nerves reappear on his face, he takes hold of the handle.

"Ready?" he asks with a glance to me.

"Born that way," I sing sarcastically. "Please, Thor. You never know if you're ready for something. You just try and find out."

With a weak chuckle at me, he pushes the doors out of the way. Sif quickly pulls the suitcase from his hand and gently nudges me forward after him. With the two of us on the other side of the threshold, the doors shut behind us with a loud, echoing 'boom.'

* * *

><p>"What do you think, then?" Sif sighs, setting a suitcase down.<p>

"Far too innocent," Fandral announces instantly. "She may be equipped like a warrior, but she has no feel of a seasoned fighter. If anything, she is dressed only for intimidation."

Volstagg, somehow having retrieved a leg meat, grins at the female warrior. "I don't think so! She may lack the air of a seasoned fighter, true, but there seems to be something about her that calls for battle! Like an innate draw to it. You saw that glare of hers!"

With a sigh, Sif nods slowly. "True, very true. And yet… something still feels off. While she does not feel so innocent as a pure child," she muses, giving a pointed look to a frowning Fandral, "it also does not feel like… oh, what is it I'm thinking?"

Still staring at the door, the final man speaks up. "She does not feel accountable enough."

The four of them looks to each other before their eyes return to the door. 'Accountable enough' fits the description she was looking for, but Sif still doesn't feel that it fits quite right. While the girl feels innocent, she also feels somewhat… resigned, maybe? As if she had something weighing on her, much like their criminal prince, but not to where it would bear down on her harshly.

"Close," Sif relents slightly. "More like… Maybe empathetic… but not tolerant…"

Hogun nods, returning to his silent demeanor as he turns back to Sif. The two have a slight stare down before their eyes move back to the door.

* * *

><p>"Father!" Thor calls out happily, striding up to another set of stairs and kneeling. "I have returned with her, Father."<p>

"Very well," an aged man nods.

At a much slower rate, my feet carry me forward towards the annoying steps. Like my father had taught me, my eyes take in everything about this one-eyed man. The only difference between him and my uncle, which feels like a slightly off comparison, is that this guy has a thrown and is decked out in armor. My uncle, on the other hand, would prefer a gun, possibly sniper rifle or RPG, and a fair amount of grenades. Who needs armor when you can be a badass like my uncle and just walk like you own the place? Which he usually does.

"Pleasure to meet you," I say simply, face remaining blank as I bow. "I'm going to guess that you already know who I am."

"Lyra Fury, daughter of the director who asked my son for assistance… correct?" he replies back slowly, eye narrowing.

"Very close," I nod. "His niece, not daughter. And you left out temporary agent of SHIELD. Although that can't really be blamed, since even I didn't know until a second ago. That was around the time that I felt this in my pocket on the walk up here."

My hand pulls out a leather casing, inside of which lays a badge for SHIELD. No ID is placed in the slot, but it's obviously mine since in the ID's place is a slip with my name on it. Clearly my uncle decided this was worth placing me amongst his ranks of awesome assassins and spies. Life loves me right now, doesn't it?

"I see," the old man nods. "An agent of SHIELD, then. Before you do any more, tell me something. Why did you accept this task?"

"Hm? Oh, you mean handling Loki, don't you?" I chuckle. "To be honest, my uncle said that the information pertaining to this all was highly classified, to keep the public safe. He's always been 'one for the good of the many.' But it felt pretty clear when he kept stressing the 'no' option to me. Family is family, after all…" I trail. "But if I was to pick a single reason… It would be something my mother once told me.

"We pick our battles and our friends; that is purely our own choice, no one else's," I quote her carefully. "But you never pick who gets a second chance. Even the worst may surprise you. So either give everyone a second chance, or no one. And usually choosing no one ends up in an existence of solitude."

The man on the throne stares at me for a moment and just for one second, it feels like my uncle is up in front of me, only he'd have a smirk on his face. He always did say that my dad was lucky to meet her first. Then again, Uncle's lucky he wasn't my father, too…

"I can understand that," Thor's father nods. "Proceed with this task, child. But remember, Loki is not to be trifled with. His power has grown since he fell from the Bifrost, and not even I could lock it all away."

A smirk crosses my face at the ever repeated warning. "I'm going to go ahead and tell you something I've told everyone else that says that," I grin.

_ "__He can act as godly as he wants. I still won't kneel to him."_

* * *

><p>Aolani purrs contently on the bed, basking in some of the failing light for the day. Dinner is in a few minutes and in my suitcase is nothing but casual clothes. Having seen a few women wandering around with more women trailing silently behind them, it was made clear that this place expects… ugh, dresses. Don't get me wrong, a dress now and then isn't so bad, but something tells me that it isn't just a once in a while thing here…<p>

"Lady Lyra!" Thor booms, slamming open my bedroom door. "I am here to guide you to the dining hall!"

"I'm right here, Thor," I whimper, fingers plugging my ears. "Please don't yell."

"My apologies," he grins. "I am merely excited for you to meet my mother. She wishes to speak with you before you meet my brother tomorrow."

My eyes roll at the thought, muttering, "Here I am, finally meeting a guy's family, and we're not even dating. My roommates would be so proud."

"What?" Thor asks innocently, head cocked to the side.

A wave of my hand brushes it off. "Better focus. I don't have any dresses to wear."

His brow furrows as he stares at my suitcase. "Are you not a warrior? Warriors wear their armor as formal attire for feasts and dinners…"

"Oh… Awesome!" I cheer, pulling open the briefcase on my bed and pulling out my armor.

Black, stylized like Clint's and with regular cargo pants over some spandex armor, it is by far more acceptable.

"Would you wait outside for a few minutes, please?"

"Of course!" Thor laughs. "You might hurry, though. Dinner will begin soon and neither of us should be late."

A few minutes is all that's required. Slipping everything on took only one, and the combat boots only took two. Everything else was slipped on in what could only be record time as a moment afterwards, while placing Aolani on my shoulder, Thor knocks. He really did only give me a few minutes, unless my camera thing is wrong. Seriously, this thing needs a name or it might drive me crazy.

"Are you ready?"

"Yep," I laugh, opening the door with all my equipment in place. "Let's go eat!"

"Wonderful!"

Skipping alongside Thor, we run into the other warriors and join them on their trek. Strangely enough, Sif is wearing a dress as well, her hair done up in a braid with silver threading. For some reason she seemed concerned when she saw me, like something was wrong with my outfit or something. Maybe Thor was wrong and female warriors still have to wear dresses as well. Or maybe she's just upset because she thought I would be wearing a dress and therefore would comfort me on top of it with her own. Then again… Why bother about that?

"Welcome, Lady Lyra, to the Asgardian Feast," Thor grins, pushing open a vaguely familiar set of doors.

On the other side is a large room filled with long tables and benches, at the front of which is a single long table with chairs sat on one side. People mill about, chatting happily with one another, while others look for seats with their friends or colleagues. This feels like high school all over again, only this time there's people with me, too.

"Thor?" Sif calls over the noise. "Is she to be introduced tonight?"

"My mother wishes to, so it is possible," he returns with his grin. "She shall be fine sitting with us tonight, Lady Sif. My mother intends to speak with her after dinner!"

That clears that up, then. With a slightly more controlled demeanor on my part, we all follow Thor towards the front of the room. Absently, my ears catch whatever whispers make it to them, some of them making me frown.

"What is she thinking?"

"Why is she alongside our prince?"

"When did another warrior join them?"

"What is she wearing?"

Questions raised but unanswered as Thor pats me on the shoulder and pulls me to the seat next to him. Pushing the annoying gossip form my mind, like always, a grin takes over my face while sliding into the seat between Hogun and Thor. When another question– "How did she get so close to them!?" – reaches my ears I can't help but smirk. These kinds of things are always fun to tease people with.

"I don't think the women here like me," I chuckle.

"Of course not," Sif sighs. "You wore something other than a dress."

My head cocks to the side, earlier confusion slightly cleared. "But Thor said that a warrior's formal attire would be their armor… This is my armor…"

"That definitely sounds like Thor," the womanizer sighs. "While that is true for _us_… both you and Sif are the only female warriors on Asgard, therefore it has remained tradition that all women continue to wear dresses."

"So, then," I muse, "they're all being sexist?"

Sif chokes on a random drink she pulled from a passing server, laughter replacing her coughs. Fandral and Volstagg give me strange looks while Hogun smiles and Thor laughs loudly, leaning on his arms. So they are sexist, then? Well, they're all about to have a large culture shock to their systems. No one is putting me in a dress against my will if it isn't required.

"Something wrong, Sif?" I ask coyly as she reigns herself in.

"No, no," she coughs out. "I only swallowed wrong."

"Really?" I ask, a grin spreading over my face.

She covers her mouth, still coughing yet smiling all the same. "Stop that! Honestly, you-"

A large thud echoes over the room, all sound dying out as people scurry to find places to sit. As the sound's echo fades, everyone just barely manages into a seat, strangely enough leaving the six of us plenty of room despite squeezing in wherever else. People from everywhere must have gathered in this hall – this can't just be people who live here in the palace to have stuffed every table nearly full. Although, this place _is_ pretty big, and Thor did tell me not to wander too far from places that I remember without one of the five warriors around me. Probably more to do with unhappy people and 'unfair' punishments. So long as no one takes a shot at me, no part of me cares enough at the moment.

"Ladies and Gentlemen," a familiar aged voice calls out, making my ear ring and eyes turn. "We have a brave and honorable guest amongst us tonight. Please help welcome her to our home alongside my son in his return," Odin almost demands.

Cheers go up, although whether they're for the celebration, the unnamed guest – me – or Thor's return, hell if I know.

"Please, stand!" a woman at the front calls out, looking at me specifically with a smile. "We would like to truly welcome you, after all."

This won't be good. With a nudge from Thor and a look to Sif, my body climbs up to my feet on their own, unable to refuse. Once up, a protesting Aolani left with Hogun, and stepped back from the table, my ears catch a few disbelieving gasps along with a few annoying whispers slipping up and down the tables. Most of it sounds like women being jealous/petty about the 'guest,' but some of it sounds almost… disgusted? What the hell?

"Please, join me for a moment?" the woman up front smiles, stepping around the table.

What is she doing!? My worried glance to Thor does nothing but show his supportive grin, and earn me a slight push from the only person behind me. Why, oh why, must the silent man turn against me as well?

Slightly shaky, and with a hard swallow, I step forward towards her, taking the couple steps up to where she stands. Now up on the raised dais, as it appears to be, she turns me around, in which my eyes get a little turned about, vision spinning as the attention starts to get to me. Please don't let this be like Public Speaking freshman year of college – my first speech ended with me puking my guts out.

"Go on," she whispers. "Introduce yourself."

Bad idea, bad idea!

"My name," I call out as calmly as possible, "is Lyra Fury. A pleasure."


	4. Chapter 4

To all of you readers, thanks for tuning in once more! Believe it or not, this chapter took a bit to write up... Mostly because I freaking over this final introduction during the chapter. Moving on, though, it's time to give you the next review marker - 15! And, like I said last time, it _is_ cumulative. As always, enjoy!

_Univerce_

* * *

><p><strong>Final Introduction<strong>

Sitting back in my place, my stomach feels far too light to actually hold anything more than a few bites. Aolani doesn't seem to share my sentiment, as she sprawls out on the table with whatever it was that Hogun gave her. Of all the things the woman had to do, she had to pull me up in front of everyone and make me say something – I hate public speaking. As such, my main focus has been on the five people around me as they laugh, or in Hogun's case smile. A grin stretches over my face as Sif slaps Fandral for something terrible he had insinuated at me. While it's sweet she's trying to protect me…

"Sif?"

"Hm?" her attention turns to me, hand still held in the air.

"When a man annoys you with sexual harassment-"

A sharp yelp from said womanizer has a few people down the table laughing. Aolani especially seems to enjoy this, meowing excitedly as the man curses quietly.

"_Always_ use your heel. For starters, it is far more feminine. And he can't claim you did anything – no proof," I grin.

"Except a forming bruise," Fandral snips back smartly, yelping again.

He quickly gives me a sharp glare, to which I shake my head with a chuckle. What is he glaring at me for? This time, my foot did nothing except cross over the other ankle and sit patiently for the rest to happen. Proving ground, much?

"That was me," Sif smirks. "She's right. This works far better."

Volstagg bursts out in laughter, somehow not spitting out any of the food stuffed in his mouth. How he does that, hell if I know, but it is damn impressive. Maybe spending some time with that one won't hurt – that skill might wear off on me. It'd be nice to get away with talking while eating for once, not that it happens all that often. Mom wasn't too fond of the idea of talking while having your face stuffed full to capacity.

"Lady Lyra, is something wrong?"

My gaze turns to a slightly concerned Thor, who eases up as a grin crosses my face. With these people surrounding me, and the annoying questions being drowned out by their company, my stomach starts to settle. And despite it being cold, the food that starts to disappear from my plate is absolutely delicious. Sadly, not all of it disappears into my tummy – Aolani keeps stealing scraps without me noticing… Sneaky little… While that happens constantly, story after story is exchanged between them and me. My ears and head are starting to hurt with multiple confusing facts, too – what the hell is a Buldshnipe? That is what they're called, right? Maybe…

"Too many new words for one day," I whine. "Someone please tell me what the hell a Buldshnipe is!"

"Bilgesnipe!" Thor laughs. "What is a Buldshnipe!?"

"How should I know? You said it!"

This is probably how high school and college should have felt, only with less noise in the cafeteria. Well, for college, anyway. High school would probably have been just as loud if my lunch didn't happen at home every day. Living within walking distance means food at home, which my stomach knows it will like compared to whatever the school decided to kil- serve! Whatever the school decided to serve that day.

After yet another comment from Fandral, for which Sif kicked him and he demanded that people stop assaulting him under the table, Sif stands. When she asks if I'm ready to go, my answer is an instant yes, feet lifting to avoid a womanizer's foot. Which has him yelping yet again as his shin slams into the edge of the bench.

"Really, Fandral," I drawl with a blank look. "Don't you know? That's a woman's game. Unless you're not telling everyone something?"

Thor and Volstagg burst out into more laughter as Fandral turns a further shade of red. Sif, laughing alongside me, strolls around the table to me as I climb from my seat. With a pat to Thor's shoulder, who waves us off, my feet keep me alongside while laughing as Aolani dashes ahead. She's so active, it's adorable!

"Eventful evening?" Sif chuckles as we slip out the door.

"More than eventful," I sigh. "I hate public speaking."

She laughs a little more loudly this time and snatches up Aolani as the kitten plays with her dress's hem. Fussing in the woman's hand, my kitten paws at Sif's nose, making us both laugh harder as we ing down the hall. And to think, it felt for a moment like being here was a bad idea – another place I wouldn't belong. Yet these people are barrels of laughs and nothing but accepting and lovable! Even Aolani seems to be enjoying herself as pounces from Sif's arms to my shoulder. So cute!

"Goodnight, Lady Lyra," Sif chuckle, patting me on the empty shoulder.

"You, too, Sif."

And she disappears down the hall. Having had my fun for the day, my armor sort of slips off almost automatically to be replaced by sleep shorts and a tank top. Then another thought hits me – Thor's mother wanted to talk to me before tomorrow, didn't she? Well, so much for bed time… Guess I'll just occupy myself with something else other than sleep.

Damn it!

With a huff, because life has started to hate me again, my brain scatters for something to do. In the end, it settles with 'sit on the balcony, you idiot, and pet your damn cat!' My brain can be really mean sometimes, can't it? Only a few moments later, with my kitten in my arms, staring out into the near darkness is no longer fun and my feet carry me back inside. Next activity! Which happens to be staring at my suitcase… then tearing through it to see what all was actually packed before leaving for the summer. Turns out, not much.

General clothes, like t-shirts and pants, two dresses, neither of which would have worked for tonight anyway, and my security knife. And for some reason, a prescription bottle with a note on it was slipped into one of the front pockets. _Just in case…_ Oh great, feeling the faith!

Soft knocking has my scowl disappearing and the pill bottle being shoved into the bag from slight panic. After kicking everything into a semi orderly pile, my feet rush me to the door. Calmly as possible for me at the moment, my hand pulls the door open – there she stands. The same woman from dinner is on the other side, smiling softly with her hands clasped in front of her gut. Talk about regal bearing.

"Uh, hello?"

A quiet chuckle is her reply. "Hello."

"I'm just, uh… changing real quick…" I tell her backing up from the door to grab one of the random pairs of jeans on the floor.

"Why?" she chuckles again, following me in. "I have no plans to make you go anywhere at the moment – it is far too close to bed time."

Still, part of me wants to have some regular pants on and my hands slip a pair over my shorts. Good thing these are sweatpants or it'd feel a lot weirder. One the bright side, throwing on a shirt isn't necessary at the moment, nor would it seem to be required anytime soon. Note to self, though – get more dresses. That is clearly this world's defining factor for women. Even this lady has a gorgeous dress on, and she doesn't need it!

"So, um… Sorry, but who are you?"

"Oh, forgive me!" she laughs. "I forget sometimes that those from Midgard are not always acquainted with their myths."

"Myths," I muse, closing my eyes to think. "Nordic Mythology. You must be… Frigga?"

Her smile is all that's needed as an answer. With pure grace, she glides over to the bed where Aolani is bouncing around, a small bell ball being her current target. How that kitten already knows how to play with her toys is a complete miracle. The moment Frigga takes a seat, though, my kitten ignores the toy completely and dashes up to her, climbing into her lap with an adorable cry. Steve sure can pick them if they're that cute at every opportunity… Maybe he can find me another cat later on or something…

"So… was there something you wanted to talk about?" I ask carefully, crawling onto the bed and flicking the cat toy.

"I suppose one could say that," Frigga giggles, playing with Aolani's paws. "I was merely concerned on how well you would be getting along here. It seems, though, that the concern was not necessary – Thor and his friends have taken to you quite well."

An amused grin spreads over my face. "Except Fandral," I chuckle. "He's going to be fun to tease."

"Careful," Frigga smiles softly. "You may find yourself with the tables turned one day."

"That's what a security knife is for."

She turns a confused look to me, an expression that has me laughing slightly. Bouncing up from my place, my feet skip me up to the suitcase, digging through the pile of stuff pulled out before going through the bag itself. Once located, my hand holds up the holster for her to see with a triumphant grin.

"Security knife! My uncle got it for me a few years ago when I started college," I giggle. "He was panicking about rapists and molesters. This little knife has saved me from both multiple times. Even helped me stop my own kidnapping!"

"My word," Frigga breathes. "Yet you seem so…"

"So?" I smirk. "Easygoing? Innocent? Unconcerned with the world?" I list off, watching her nod to each. "That's because the people that surround me usually watch things like crime shows, where we all learned how the justice system back home works, and the kind of nonsense that goes with it. We would sit on a couch every Friday night as a group and watch cheesy crime shows and the more realistic ones, picking out flaws and things that make no sense.

"In the end, it gave all of the girls motivation to learn self-defense. One girl from back home actually used it a few weeks ago to knock her ex-boyfriend out…" I muse quietly.

"I see," she chuckles. "Well, then, it has been a pleasure. You seem to be settled in and from your demeanor and words, it can be said that my son should benefit from your presence."

Oh, that's right. Frigga is the mother of both Thor _and_ Loki – of course she was worrying about more than whether or not I had settled in. A faint smile crosses my lips as she leaves, Aolani mewing for more attention. Rolling my eyes, I climb under the covers and drag my kitten with me. If she wants attention, she'll have to learn to sleep cuddled up with me.

* * *

><p>Not trusting much of anything in the palace after waking up, Lyra threw on her armor and slipped all of her gear into place. Thor had shown up moments later, ready to guide her for breakfast, a much smaller occurrence than dinner the night before, to her relief. As it happens, she enjoyed that meal and went through it quickly, wanting the last introduction to be over and done with. And, not wanting her precious kitten to get stuck in the middle, she had also left Aolani with the ever trustworthy Hogun – "Fandral will probably use her in some form of revenge and Volstagg will just stuff her full of food, so would you mind?"<p>

She didn't even consider Thor an option at the time.

Now, though, she softly mutters under her breath, cursing herself for not bringing the soft and cuddly kitten with her. Her nerves could use something settling at the moment, and a soft kitten would work wonders. Alas, without the little fuzzball, she is on her own in this particular meeting, which she could swear someone had warned her against… Maybe…

Then again, all the advice people had given seemed to just meld together at this point. Everything sounded so similar, she could have very well come up with that one as a hidden message behind the rest of it. Considering how everyone continued to give her the same advice over and over again, it seems like a pretty good guess, too. Still a bit concerned without another next to her, Lyra forces the doors open, ignoring the questioning gazes of guards I the first room.

_I'm supposed to be here… I'm _supposed_ to be here._

Continuing to ignore the guards, she strides up to the next door, or gate, really, and pulls that open as well. Her feet are then descending down a flight of steps, and she passes by the first door by instinct – that would be way too easy of a walk. Instead, she continues down the steps, passing by a few other doors, while doing a mental checklist.

Things to occupy myself with; check – the camera thing is for some reason multipurpose for music as well. Mental sanity; check – can't deal with a deluded prisoner without that. Earplugs to ignore his rants with; check – don't want to deal with a deluded prisoner's monologue without those. Anything else? Oh, right, all equipment to attempt beating the snot out of him, just in case; check! Who knows, maybe she'll be able to actually get into the cell and just knock his lights out…

"So, then," she sighs, "all good… Except for the large glowing thing in front of me…"

At the bottom of the steps, with two guards on either side is yet another door covered in golden markings. Staring at them, they seem to give off a faint glow, which is the only thing Lyra pays attention to for the moment. The guards shift nervously, wondering just how a woman with so much equipment managed to get to them. After a few moments of her staring, a grin brightens up across her face at an idea.

"What's the magic word!?"

Both guards give each other looks before turning their stares back to her… And they remain silent. You really can't blame them, though – she's acting insane if she just plans to walk in there!

"Come on, guys," she sighs, tapping her foot. "I want to get this over with and go find my kitten again!"

"Your name, ma'am," the guard on the left demands.

"Oh! My bad. That would probably help," Lyra chuckles, pulling at the back of her neck. "Alright, then. I'm Lyra Fury, assigned to, uh… help the crazy guy, I guess? I'm not quite sure what you would call it…"

The guards give each other another look before nodding to her. With a tap on the door from each of them, the golden script disappears, making Lyra's eyes widen for a moment. After a few deep breaths, she clears out the sudden onset of anxiety and reaches for the handle. Both guards, however, stop her before she touches it.

"Are you certain you wish to proceed?" the one on the right asks quietly. "There is no going back once you begin your work."

"I'm sure," she nods, eyes on the door. "You either give everyone a second chance, or no one. And I, for one, would prefer to give people a second chance – no one wants to be isolated."

With slight hesitation, the guards move out of her way once more, letting her head through. _There are guards on the other side, then… That's always relieving, right?_ On the other side of the door is nothing more than a single cell, blocked off by a glass pane that looks incredibly thick with a random lack of a door.

_How the hell do they do security checks and- oh wait, magic. Right… Such cheating._

And behind that glass is an assortment of things, from a bed to a table to a bookshelf to a washbasin. Randomly, she wonders why exactly everything in Asgard seems so old fashioned. Amongst it all, sitting next to the glass, is Loki, book in hand and looking rather content despite his circumstances. _How strangely interesting_. From personal experience, she doesn't remember people enjoying being locked behind bars, or in this case glass. For instance, one of her older roommates during her freshman year at college was caught as a minor in possession and carted off for a night – she called Lyra and sounded hysteric, albeit slightly drunk.

_Wonder how he does it._

"Can I help you?" he sighs, looking rather annoyed.

"Nope," she chirps out, striding up to the glass. "Just came to say hi."

"To say hi?" he repeats slowly, not looking up from his book. "And why, pray tell, would anyone wish to do something so stupid?"

If she's completely honest, not one part of her is entirely certain on why she remained after meeting Odin or after hearing all the warnings time and time again. Maybe it was something in her brain finally short-circuiting, or maybe she just really didn't care at the time. But you can't very well say all of that as an answer – usually people judge that sort of thing.

Solution, for her at least:

"Be conversational?" she shrugs, leaning her shoulder against the glass as she stares at him. "Why does anyone do anything stupid, really? Either because they don't know any better or simply because they can."

"And which would you be? Too ignorant or too stubborn to see the error?"

"I see no error here," Lyra states simply, inspecting her nails. "The only thing I _do _see here is a pane of glass and a man who tossed away his freedom."

That _may_ or may _not_ have been her best choice. Loki froze at her words, fingers twitching slightly as they grasped the book in his hands just a bit tighter. After a few moments of silence, in which Lyra stood there and simply stared at him, he slowly turns a cold glare on her. To his extreme surprise, she smiles, and the bored, blank look on her face vanishes.

"Finally. I was wondering when you'd look up," she grins. "Lyra Fury. Pleasure. And get used to being outdone, little boy. I'll be coming by quite a lot."

Happy with the end to the exchange, she strides away from the glass pane, leaving a slightly dumbstruck Loki in her wake. Once she disappears through the door, he closes his book gently and begins drumming his fingers on the cover, deep in thought. While he had expected a new strategy from his 'family' to be revealed eventually, he hadn't expected them to go out and hunt someone down to deal with him. And while he certainly isn't worried about her getting into his head anytime soon, he certainly is worried about what she said.

"Outdone," he smirks, eyes glinting cruelly. "And just how did you outdo me?"

* * *

><p>"Aolani! Mama missed you!"<p>

Snuggling the cat to my cheek, my ears pointedly ignore the laughs around me. Thor had caught me walking out of the dungeons an hour earlier with a slightly worried look on his face. Apparently he had wanted to go down there with me today to introduce me to his brother, and me asking a random guard to show me the way ruined that for him. He then proceeded to ask me how everything went and what his brother had said. Upon hearing how I had left him, quoting my exit word for word, he had laughed and said to be careful with my wits.

"I missed you, my sweet little ninja kitty!"

"Ninja kitty?" Sif chuckles, stepping next to me and petting my kitten. "What in the name of the Allfather is a 'ninja kitty'?"

My blissful smile turns to a wide grin as Aolani crawls onto and clings to my shoulder.

"A ninja kitty is a cat that has been trained to be silent as a shadow and as fierce as a warrior! Usually trained in ways of silent assassinations, they are the ultimate pet!"

"Lady Lyra," Thor calls from down the hall. "My mother wishes to speak with you!"

With a quick goodbye to them all, my feet swiftly carry me off toward Thor who disappears back through a door. After a change of pace, I find myself jogging up to and through the door, slowing down on the other side once closing in on the god of thunder. For some strange reason, Frigga and Odin had apparently ordered that they be updated on everything their criminal child says and does. It seems a little overbearing, if being honest, but it is their child and my uncle did say that they made the request for help, so…

"Good morning," I greet them, bowing.

"Rise," Odin sighs. "How is he doing?"

One quick thought later has me saying, "Just fine, actually." And it seems to surprise them a bit. "He was calm, for the most part, but would not look away from his book even when I spoke. As it stood, I had to sort of insult him to even introduce myself correctly. Aside from attitude, though, he seems perfectly healthy and like any other slightly spiteful man."

"Slightly spiteful," Frigga repeats, her face falling.

A grimace crosses my face, and internally, I'm cursing my tact. "He seems to hold a great deal of annoyance for those who try and speak with him. Then again, I know a lot of people who love to read and hate when they're interrupted, so that could have been it."

Her grim expression seems to lift a bit and Thor nudges me slightly, making me look up to see his thankful expression. Out of all of them, it seems that the mother of the boys holds the most concern for them all. That's not very surprising, as women tend to be the ones who actually show worry, but it is a little surprising that Odin isn't showing much concern. While Loki may only be adopted, he's still the man's son… right?

"That's about all I've gotten out of that short meeting."

"Wait, short?" Frigga frowns. "Why 'short?' Did you not like the way he had treated you?"

I can't help the laugh that escapes me at her guessing. "No! Nothing like that! I just didn't think that forcing him to deal with me for too long would have been a good idea. My thoughts – introduce myself, let him know I'm here, give him his space.

"A regular meeting between people doesn't usually last longer than a few minutes, anyway. Best to keep things to as natural an occurrence as possible!"

Odin nods, his one eye boring into me. "Thank you. You may go now."

Like he could have kept me if he tried. Looking to Thor, my feet force me to copy his movements, stepping back a few paces before turning around and heading for the door. Behind us, my ears catch Frigga's tone, a slightly brighter one than when we had begun that little conversation. Why she puts so much trust in someone from so far away, no one may ever know.

Going back through that annoyingly ornate door, Thor and I finally breathe easy. On the other side, Sif and the Warriors Three stand patiently, looking slightly impatient. The moment they see us, though, that look vanishes as grins spread over each of their faces. Aolani finally meows again, having been patiently silent in the presence of Thor's parents, and bats at a strand of my hair that escaped my ear. Such cuteness can't be ignored, and the others laugh – Hogun, per usual only smiles. This place really isn't that bad, is it?

"Now what?" Sif asks a few moments later, looking anxious. "She's met him, probably angered him as well. What else is she supposed to do here?"

"Now, Sif," Fandral sighs. "We all know that such a delicate young woman-"

"Delicate!?" I snap at him. "Who the hell are you calling delicate!?"

Sif chuckles lightly, looking rather smug. "Now you've done it. How about we head out to the training area? I could use a good workout."

"Oh, oh! I want to go, I want to go!" I cheer, bouncing in place with my hand held high.

Thor laughs, the sound ringing along the corridors, before declaring it a perfect day to do so anyway. Like that, we find ourselves outside in the bright sunshine and enjoying the white clouds shading us from its harsh exposure. Sitting back as the boys whack at each other with their own weapons, Sif listens to me casually explaining my weapons and style. We decided that, while the boys hack away at each other, we'd talk and learn a bit about each other's abilities – avoid any nasty injuries. The others had laughed at the idea, but my only female friend here had quickly pointed out that human beings aren't nearly as tough as Asgardians. They then quickly shut up about it and proceeded to swing their weapons.

"So," Sif laughs, "your bracer acts as a sort of control for these discs?"

"Yep," I nod, smirking as Thor knocks Fandral aside with a well-placed swing. "And my bo-staff is built with a bunch of neat junk that I have yet to learn about. I should probably read that manual sometime soon… Anyway, what else is there?"

"What about the necklace? And that other thing on your belt?"

My eyes move to see the camera gadget Bruce had given me still hanging there. Honestly, aside from music and a camera and maybe a movie, I'm still not quite sure what exactly that toy can do. There wasn't a manual included with it, Bruce had just tossed it to me before we all walked out the door.

"Well… My necklace is sort of a warning system for Thor. If my heart rate changes dramatically without an explanation, he has a little device on his wrist that'll vibrate and warn him," I explain quickly. "Think of it as a safety net against Loki's antics."

She hums in approval, a smirk on her face. "And the other little toy on your belt?"

"That's… just a camera, as far as I know… Steve wants me to take tons of pictures of Asgard while I'm here," I shrug. "Bruce tossed it to me before I left and explained the camera functions of it. That's it. He didn't give me a manual, so if it does anything else, all of that is nothing but surprises."

"Midgardian technology is still so strange," Sif frowns. "Enough of that, though. Shall we spar for a bit?"

The suggestion has me grinning. "Hells yeah!"

After a few moments, Sif and I have jumped onto the field, Aolani left on the sidelines, moving a little further from the others who have turned their battles into a free-for-all. Frankly, that isn't for us. Only the second day here and already training with my new toys – fun!

"To be fair," I call to Sif as she takes a few steps further back, "I have no idea how to use these discs."

Turning that little circle on the bracer, a shiver runs up my spine as the oblong projectiles detach, flatten out, and start to randomly float around me. My lips break into a toothy grin and with a quick flick, they zoom out toward her. Well, half of them do. Four of them, after reading that manual earlier while the others were retrieving junk, have been reprogrammed as a defensive system. Any unknown heat signatures get close, they deal with it. The other four are the ones that zip by their targets, slicing at whatever they scan as an enemy.

"Lady Lyra! Aim for the joints of the armor!"

A quick check shows the boys having paused their own little skirmish to watch, and Thor is grinning like an idiot. With a shrug, and small tap on my bracer, three of the discs return to my sides, the last one becoming my main weapon. Having more control, I move my right arm in gestures, pulling the disc back and forth and sending it left and right. After swiping at her general direction a few times, a frown crosses my face.

"Hold still, dammit!" I grumble.

Annoyingly, and like an expert, Sif is dodging the disk lithely. On the up side, she must not be used to this kind of strategy, as she's quickly becoming exhausted. She also happens to be focusing solely on the disc, and not so much defeating me as remaining untouched. A smart move considering how little she knows about all of my equipment. Out of sympathy to her no doubt failing energy, I recall the discs onto the belt, each one clicking into place, and pull out my bo-staff instead. Sure, she wanted a workout, but using the discs alone would mean she's the only one actually _working_ out. That's just not fair.

"My turn!" I call to her, leaning against the stick as she slowly catches her breath.

Got to hand it to her, she recovers fast. After only a few moments, she charges in, sword tracing just above the ground as she attempts to rush me. A kick against the bo-staff's end redirects her swing over my ducking head. And thus, the real workout begins. While practicing the other neat features of this piece would be fun, that could potentially harm her, so I stick to basic combat skills.

Clint, thank you for teaching me!

Absently, and without any real force, Sif and I clash our weapons time and time again. It amazes me a bit how well the bo-staff is standing up to her weapon's edge – clearly Tony did more than take a regular grade piece and 'upgrade' it. Regulation equipment can't be so strong as to resist damage from a freaking sword unless he made a completely new one!

"You have excellent form!" Sif grins, her eyes bright and challenging.

"Of course I do! I'm a woman. Women are naturals!" I grin back. "That's why we're sparring with each other and they're standing over there."

With a quick jump back from each other, a mutual and silent agreement is made.

"Oh, boys," we smirk at them. "Think fast!"

And together, we charge.


	5. Chapter 5

To those of you who forgot, yes you are technically required to actually review my chapters for me. You're all still at ten, so you've probably skipped my message in the last chapter. Being the wonderful person I am, I've said screw it and decided to get this annoying chapter posted because I love my readers. For the next update, the mark is still 15 reviews. Like already stated, you're at 10 right now. Five to go.

_Univerce_

* * *

><p><strong>Second Week of Vacation<strong>

Sometime last week Sif had decided that, while my dresses would be good for everyday wear like they were meant to be, another dress needed to be made for dinner parties. Much like the other night. Thor and I had agreed that it was unnecessary, but she apparently refuses to let the women here gossip about me behind my back. So she called a tailor in to take my measurement and we three women came up with a design. No more armor formal wear for me… Man that sucks! At least the design is a little simpler than the ones some of the women wear.

Today is the day we test the dresses out, and Sif decides whether this is all worth it. Sadly, the royal tailor happens to be stationed in town, one of the few services that does both royal and public works. On the brighter side of it all, at least the other two let me choose whether the design worked or not. That means that the dress is made to not only be simple in design, but comfortable, as well.

"Why exactly are they coming with?" I whisper to Sif, the boys following closely behind us.

"Thor fears that some of the people here in Asgard are not as welcoming as they seemed at your welcoming feast," she sighs. "He decided that you are not to leave the palace without at least two of us."

"But there's five of you right now," I frown.

"The Warriors Three had nothing else to do."

My frown of confusion turns to a blank stare thrown over my shoulder. After staring at the others for a bit, who all – this never includes Hogun – fidget slightly at my gaze, my eyes turn back to the road ahead of me. How could those three _not_ have something to do at the moment? Surely someone somewhere needs a hero or something.

"I see," I mutter, blank stare trained ahead. "When do we lose them?"

"Not possible. It is an order from the Prince of Asgard."

"Damn."

"I know."

So, despite really not wanting the boys along with us for the ride, we girls simply do our best to ignore their presence. While Hogun is slightly peaceful about this walk through town, the other three are soon loud and laughing nonstop. Well, at least they're enjoying themselves, right? Part of me wishes they would quiet down a bit, though. Even if it is a regular occurrence for them, people here still stare at the sound of their prince's voice. And that immediately draws attention to the new girl of the group.

Doing my best to ignore the now staring eyes of everyone around me, my feet keep me next to Sif. The moment she takes a turn, her arm taking mine to guide me, it's to step into one of the stores that have surrounded us since leaving the palace. And, of course, the place is filled with fabrics of every shade and color imaginable. Why can't fabrics on Earth be this varied, and why can't the people who make clothes come up with them? They're far better than graphics.

"Hello! We're here to-"

"Here to try out a dress, Lady Sif?" a young woman chuckles, stepping out from behind a rather large pile of cloth. "I remember. No need to shout. Now, then, this way please."

And cue the dreaded moment of my life. Why couldn't Sif just let me wear my armor and whatnot instead? That would make my life, her life, this girl's life, the boys' lives, and anyone else's far easier! Plus, when the hell else am I going to wear these dresses? Earth isn't exactly a good place for fabric that doesn't exist there…

With me pushed towards the tailor, who drags me behind all that cloth, my ears pick up Sif berating the boys. Something about an obvious 'no boys allowed' policy when it pertains to girls. Well, at least Fandral won't be able to peek on me while I'm changing. That's always nice.

After some slight difficulty pushing that train of thought away, my focus move to the tailor as she helps me into the first dress. Strangely enough, it's the same color as Hulk. And even stranger still, it somehow looks good on me. I can't stop the grin that appears on my face, giving the seamstress an approving nod before slipping into the next one. A mixture of blues is the next things to cover me – how many shades are in this one? While the design is as simple as the last, with no real frills or anything, she still seems to have put a lot of work into this one. The thought has me smiling at her again with another nod.

Some number of dresses later, and deciding to wear one back just for the hell of it, the seamstress keeps me back for one more dress. A surprise, as she puts` it, from another person up at the palace. In her arms is a black dress with swirls of silver threads patterning the bodice, hem, collar and lower sleeves. Once it slips over my head, I barely recognize the girl in the mirror, staring in awe at the way the fabric hugs me.

"It's beautiful," I breathe. "Who asked for this?"

"I was requested to remain silent on that matter," the woman bows. "Although I can say that the person believes it will serve you well at the next feast. If memory serves, it should be-"

"Tonight," I chuckle. "Just in time."

The seamstress gives me a sweet smile, nodding. "Is this all, then?"

"Yes, thank you."

Her shaking head and smile makes me grin. "Not at all! It was my pleasure, truly! You gave me an order that kept to simplicity for elegance, a rare quality for any of my more noble customers lately. Oh! Please keep-"

"It to myself," I nod. "Don't worry. I don't rat people out. It's in my nature."

She sighs in relief before smiling once again. "Which one were you wanting to wear back to the palace?"

Oh, good question! "Well… Which one do you like better, the blue one or that dark purple?"

"Blue," she chuckles. "Definitely the blue dress. It brought out your eyes."

"Blue it is!"

* * *

><p>Sif turns her eyes to the pile of cloth behind her, swearing she heard something about the color blue. Her attention quickly shifts back to the boys, however, when Fandral attempts to slip by her.<p>

"No!"

And with smack upside the head, he returns to his place next to Hogun. Who, incidentally, is bearing a kitten on his shoulder. Where exactly Aolani popped up from, none of the other warriors are certain nor do they dare to question the cat's ability. _Ninja cat!_ They merely remark to themselves on their friend's determination to make the kitten, who is growing larger by the day, a stealthy master of assassination. And a force to be reckoned with if the owner of said cat manages to succeed.

"Alright, guys!" a familiar voice calls out. "I'm ready!"

From behind the pile of cloth comes that same master of the cat, beaming brightly as she stands there in a beautiful blue dress. Swirled together are the many shades of blue that one would find from anywhere between the sky and the ocean, all mixing together into the fabric. Truly, the tailor here can boast skills to rival those of royal service in the past.

"It is beautiful, Lady Lyra!" Thor grins, snatching away the bag in her hand.

Which has the girl frowning at him. "Hey! I was gonna carry that!"

"Not anymore," Sif chuckles. "You are dressed like a woman now. You'll have to act like it as well."

"What are you saying?" Lyra asks blandly, giving the woman a blank look.

Despite having numerous answers to that question, Sif just shakes her head and gestures to the door. After a quick farewell to the tailor, who grins broadly, the girls lead the way out into the busy streets. And many people do a double take as they walk along. Four men carrying bags behind a pair of women, only one of whom is dressed in armor… What does that make the other girl, then? In the majority of their minds: _an honored guest._ As it is, a vast number of the people give light bows, keeping their eyes to themselves.

"I'm lost," Lyra mumbles, her own eyes wandering back and forth.

"You are _dressed_ like a _woman_ now," Sif repeats, giving her a smile. "The people of Asgard only know of me as the female warrior. Seeing you in armor must have sent many… how do you say it? 'Into a spin?' I think that is it…"

"That's it," Lyra giggles. "But why are they being so…"

"Respectful?" the female warrior suggests, ignoring the boys as they quickly return to their loud selves. "You are not only dressed in the… 'proper' fashion, but you are accompanied by a group of warriors, one of whom is the Prince of Asgard, himself. What conclusions would you come to at such a sight?"

A few moments of thought later has Lyra frowning slightly. "I'd say respected individual… Which I most certainly am not."

"Maybe not by the more noble people," Sif sighs, ignoring a few cold looks from a collection of women from said class. "But you _are_ an honored guest here. Being dressed as such merely informs those around you of such."

"Yay," the 'honored guest' grumbles. "Now I have to deal with people treading on needles around me. Loads of fun."

* * *

><p>A meow spins my eyes around, widening to see my kitten on Hogun's shoulder with a glint in her eyes. My god, the ninja cat has already begun her training!<p>

"Aolani!"

The smile that crosses Hogun's face has me pouting indignantly. Of course he would be plotting against me with my own kitten – at least it isn't Fandral who has a hold of her. After a slight huff, and plucking my kitten from his shoulder, his smile turns into something of a smirk, and one that receives a glare in return. Albeit a light glare, but still a glare nonetheless. And he annoyingly just widens it. Smug little…

"My kitten," I grumble, quickly moving to catch up to Sif, who is choking back laughter. "Not a word!"

"Not a word," she nods, unable to stop the smile on her face.

Feeling the amusement surrounding me, my own smile manages to break free, especially as Aolani purrs in my arms. She's starting to grow, really – her size has doubled in the last week. Is that normal, or has Asgard done something to my adorable little fuzzball that would otherwise be considered odd? Oh well, she's still my adorable little kitten.

"I'm sort of glad I came here for Summer Vacation," I muse, all of getting back into our paces.

"Why would that be?" Thor asks from behind us girls.

"Well, Thor," I sigh happily, snuggling my kitten, "I get to spend time with wonderful people instead of annoying billionaires and attempt something worthwhile."

Volstagg, like always, tries to say something… through the food that he yet again seems to acquire from nowhere. A disapproving look from both Sif and myself has him swallowing quickly, and giving a few coughs, before grinning widely.

"Worthwhile, you say? And what is that?"

"Really? Did you forget why I'm here?" I groan unhappily.

Thor's light sigh has me looking over my shoulder to see his slightly upset expression. Of all the people, he probably understood my words the best. While others may see my little 'mission' here as a waste of time, resources, and effort, we see it as an opportunity. And unfortunate reason to visit Asgard, of course, but a good reason no less than beating back an alien army or army of giant… Frosty the Snowmen… I'm remembering that one for later – Loki may not like what's happening, but my intention is to enjoy every second.

"Well, what's on today's agenda, then?" Fandral pipes up, probably trying to break the oppressing mood.

"A visit to the dungeons," I say offhandedly, and with a smile over my shoulder.

Clearly that wasn't the answer he wanted.

* * *

><p>"Frigga?"<p>

Stepping into the guard room above the dungeons, my eyes land on her first as she stands in front of the next door. Absently, my mind plays through Thor's worries when he escorted me to the hall just outside the room a moment ago.

_"__My mother is fearful for Loki… And now for you."_

_ "__Why?"_

_ "__She fears you may be lost to one of his mind games. And while I am certain that is not possible, given your… um…"_

_ "__Mutation, Thor. Call it what it is."_

_ "__Right. Mutation… Given that, she is still uncertain and fearful for any consequences that may affect you and your people."_

Her standing here only further cements what the Asgardian prince had informed me. And when her eyes raise quickly, barely hiding the dark emotion behind a glass of content, I can't help but feel he was right. Even though she should be unafraid for what may happen, she still worries endlessly. Just like a good queen and a good mother would do. At least she's retained some form of responsibility through this all. Most girls and women back home, that my brain can remember that is, would have chucked it aside and said 'screw it.' Their first stop would have been an airplane, or in this case Bifrost, to Tahiti or maybe even Europe.

"Hello, Lady Lyra," Frigga smiles, the glass mask in her eyes cracking a bit.

_"__She's scared he may get free and start another war, isn't she?"_

"Is something wrong?" I ask quietly.

"Oh, no! Of course not," she chuckles. "Just checking in."

_"__I believe she is, Lady Lyra."_

A smile flits across my face before adjusting the small bag on my shoulder. After speaking with one of the servants, they were kind enough to find me something to carry a few things around in. Mainly a few of my notebooks that were conveniently stuffed into my suitcase last minute and a pencil, but still a nuisance to carry around in one's arms. The spirals can hurt.

"Are you sure?"

The expression on her face as she nods nags at my thoughts. "Quite certain, dear. Are you heading down to visit my son?"

"I am," I sigh. "Something tells me you have a few pieces of advice for this particular trip?"

"Oh, well…" Her eyes go over her shoulder, clouding as they land on the door. "Maybe… He may be a bit upset at the moment… I believe he was… _unhappy_ with me visiting today…"

There it is. "Lady Frigga, if I may?" I ask blandly, striding up to her as my face straightens out. "If your son is in a pissy mood, that's his problem. Life keeps moving, no matter how you may feel." Her eyes have snapped to me, widening at my language. "And while he may believe himself almighty and godlike, there are many others who deserve those titles far more. Men and women do amazing things every day, be it good or bad, and all he did was add his name to that list. Placing him as a god is borderline ridiculous."

"La-… No… You… do not particularly like that formality, do you?" she sighs. "Ly… ra… Lyra, the things you have said could place you in a great deal of trouble. And you are lucky that my husband is not standing here with us at the moment."

"I'd still say it," I shrug. "If he doesn't like the way I think, or the way I speak, then he doesn't have to listen to me. Like I said, the way people feel is their own problem, not mine."

She stares at me for a moment, a critical expression on her face, before smiling solemnly. "You are one of a kind, Lyra. And while you may end up doing a great deal of damage to him… you could very well be the exact thing my son needs to turn himself around."

"That _is_ the hope," I grin. "Why else would you call me here?"

Her airy laugh has me grinning wider – that glass casing in her eyes has broken, showing the emotions hidden before. There's a mix of fear, and yet it seems far calmer than when my feet first stepped into the guard room. Maybe the reason I've been placed here by whatever fate is out there meant for those other than just Loki to speak to me. Mom always said that there are numerous things a person must do in every place they visit, whether they know it or not…

"If you'll excuse me, Lady Frigga," I bow to her. "I need to go see if your son is really as 'upset' as you believe him."

"Of course," she laughs, stepping away from my next door and letting me step closer. "Do be careful, he is likely in no mood to speak with anyone, and could very well use whatever he knows against you."

"I'm not too worried," I smirk. "Nonsense and bull just roll right off me."

And with that, my feet carry me through the next door.

With a light slam, my eyes turn to the dark stairwell before me. Just like the last time, around a week ago, my steps go by a few doors before reaching the last one – my target. _Think of this like a game, Lyra. Make it an RPG._

Current Objective: Get past the guards and into the cell room.

Main Goal: Get him to say something that gives him away, in whatever way that may be.

Having my mind treat this like a role-play game probably isn't the brightest idea, but something has to make this fun. Until his 'royal highness' decides to participate, which probably won't be until… _next_ summer break, I'm left to my own devices for entertainment down here. Reasons to bring my notebooks and a few pencils, which are thankfully in my bag. Still… How could Frigga, the guy's own mother, have made this worse for me? And if we don't even talk, what could he possibly use against me?

Quickly pushing my thoughts away, a grin spreads over my face for the guards. They both stare at my bag, and with a roll of my eyes, the strap slips off my shoulder before being held out for them. It's actually quite impressive, how quickly they go through the bag of paper and pencils. Only a couple seconds later, the bag is back in my possession, the door opening wide.

Just like the last time, there sits Loki, grimacing up at the ceiling as he lies out on his bed. Interesting? Well, he seems upset, alright. Staring for only a moment, my shoulders shrug before my feet carry me up to the glass, quickly turning to end up on the wall opposite him. If he actually decides to stop being pissy, then he can by all means get up off his bed and speak with me. Or, if he's feeling irritable, my ears can block him out and my focus can remain on my work.

About ten minutes into my focused work…

"Care to tell me why you are down here?"

"Depends. Will you play nicely?"

"Excuse me?" he scoffs. "What are you babbling?"

"You know what I mean," I reply curtly, giving him a pointed look.

He isn't even looking over here, so he either feels it or is just hoping to get rid of me. Well, time to start the game, then. My eyes return to my page, pencil hovering over an incomplete line and waiting for a new thought to strike.

Current Objective: Trick the Trickster into a trap.

Main Goal: Get him to say something that gives him away, in whatever way that may be.

"'Play nicely?' You must be joking."

"Not even a little," I yawn. "Unless you plan on asking a relevant question or saying something remotely interesting, please remain quiet so I can work."

From the edge of my vision, his form moves. Is that curiosity that's seeping into him?

"Work," he repeats slowly. "What could you possibly work on in this hole?"

"Well," I sigh, "since you obviously won't be quiet- if I tell you, will you shut up?"

"Excuse me!?"

"Do we really have to go back over this?"

Face blank, my eyes move from the line of the page in my lap to the demi-god's own emerald orbs. From my uncle's briefing on Loki, and Thor's descriptions, this man is supposed to be a Frost Giant. Therefore he should have either red or orange eyes, depending on the light, and a dark shade of glacier colored skin to match, of which there should be little markings all across his body. And usually the inhabitants of Jotunheim, the land of Frost Giants, would have darker hair colors, like this raven-headed criminal, from every color. Red, black, brunette, blonde, it doesn't matter, so long as it is in the darker shades. The blondes and red-heads are supposed to be rare, though… I think – that part sort of faded out…

"Fine," he growls. "What in the Nine Realms could you possibly be working on in this hell?"

"Oh, not much," I chuckle with a smirk. "Just a story."

His eyebrow raises slightly, his form readjusting to sit on the edge of his bed. "A story. Why would you work on that here?"

"Different places, different lightings," I shrug indifferently. "Besides, I prefer the darker work places to the brightly lit ones. I'm somewhat nocturnal, I suppose."

"Nocturnal," the disgraced prince scoffs. "Your kind cannot live without some form of light."

"True, we can't," I nod. "But then again, I said 'somewhat,' so your point is invalid."

A frown curves his lips, making me smirk yet again. Having had my fun with that subject, and gained a sort of foothold on today's 'session,' my eyes return to the page in front of me. Quickly, my fingers move the pencil, jotting down all of the words said in a shorthand my friend taught me. Remove all vowels, write whatever case, ignore punctuation. Great for stories, not so much for college notes – she wasn't very academic to begin with, so there isn't really room to complain.

"Very well," he huffs. "What makes you nocturnal, then? Or should I say _somewhat_ nocturnal?"

"Either or," I shrug while the pencil catches up with the words, laughing in my head as my eyes catch his fists clenching slightly.

Being aggravated to begin with is making him easier to read than he probably should be, although he could very well be acting, too. So take things with a pinch of pessimistic salt, Lyra! It'll save you some trouble in the long run.

"I became somewhat nocturnal when I was little. My parents were heavy sleepers and no matter what noise I caused they would never get up to check on me," I explain quickly. "And yet they never once thought to question me why exactly the ice cream and snacks kept disappearing every night. Overly trusting, really, but then again, I was only five or so – who would think of a little girl to begin with?"

"I would," Loki denies, my eyes moving to him. "Children can be some of the craftiest creatures in existence."

Again, I yawn. "Boring. While they may be the craftiest, their imaginations often get the better of them. Nine times out of ten, they get caught simply because their lies or escapes plans are overdone or too simple."

It's kind of fun watching his fingers clench and unclench over and over, regardless of whether or not he's faking it.

"Why the hell are you down here, again?" he grinds out, glaring at me.

A grin spreads over my face, my eyes memorizing the way his face twists at the sight – slight shock mixed with annoyance, faked or not.

"Why wouldn't I be?" I toss back at him. "You should be more careful, Loki. You're slipping."

And with that last little quip, my body is bouncing back onto my feet. With another grin to him, and my bag back up on my shoulder, I move towards the door, disappearing beyond it with a satisfaction at his face. The look of pure, unadulterated rage was absolutely priceless. No doubt he'll make me pay for it if he ever gets out – his pride was just stabbed at.

Not to mention those last few words tossed over my shoulder before the door could close.

_"__And for future reference. Be as godly as you like – you can't make me kneel."_

* * *

><p>That black dress really is perfect for this little dinner. And when the word little is used, that's a major underestimation of this particular event. Just like the night when Thor, Sif, and the Warriors Three escorted me into the palace, the tables are packed with people once again. And yet there's still plenty of room between the six of us at the head of our table to be comfortably seated. At first, it felt kind of bad for everyone else to be packed together like that, but the feeling disappeared as the whispers finally started to reach my ears.<p>

While people approve of my dress, they don't particularly approve of the girl wearing said dress. They seem to have accepted my presence, but they still despise it nonetheless. Sif has been joking with me the entire time, probably trying to keep my attention away from all the whisperings. Sadly, it isn't working.

"How long is she here?"

"Is our prince supposed to deal with her every day?"

"What good is she?"

A few of the other questions are far more disgusting, running along the lines of prostitution and relating to both Fandral _and_ Thor. Maybe one of two of them are relating to Volstagg as well, but if they are, they're far outnumbered. A few people are even going so far as to suspect Sif as well. This just so happens to make me personally wish to activate the gauntlet on my arm and send the discs from my belt through several throats. But that would be rude.

"Lady Lyra?"

My stare turns to Thor, who is seeming just as worried as the last feast we all attended together. And just like last time, a smile spreads over my face.

"It's nothing, Thor. Just thinking is all."

_"__Mew!"_

Our attention is pulled to a rather adorable little kitten trying to pull one of the larger chunks of meat from my plate. And the scene has all six of us laughing hysterically – granted Hogun only chuckled, but that's hysterically in his case – as she continued to pull on the cut of beef. Choking back my laughs, I pick up my kitten, who meows in protest. Once she's in Hogun's hands, who is once more sitting on my other side, separating me from the rest of the table, my finger pick up my knife. Several slices later, making extremely small bites, my kitten is somehow devouring the meat with determination.

"She so cute!" I giggle, leaning on my elbows to watch her. "I love my ninja kitty."

"As do we all!" Thor laughs, poking her in the side and earning a clawless swipe at his hand. "And she has spirit, too."

Aolani looks up at me, the last bit of a piece of meat hanging from her mouth, and gives me a stare. That one look has my grin going soft, thoughts going wistful while watching her tail behind her flicker back and forth.

"She really does… And she's smart, too, aren't you, Aolani?"

The kitten bounces up onto all fours, tail up and looking excited. In seconds she's pounced at me, clinging the fabric of the dress and climbing up to my shoulder. With a few soft cries, she's swiping at my face, a ticklish feeling that has me giggling again.

"Okay, okay!" I laugh. "We can go, I promise!"

"I'll go with you," Sif chuckles, pushing her near empty plate away.

Absently, I do the same, although my plate is only half gone and is instead pushed closer to a chowing Volstagg. He beams at me, making the rest of us laugh, or chuckle in one particular case, before taking a fork, stabbing the last of the meat, and devouring it. Sif shakes her head as she walks around the table, our arms hooking automatically as we stride down the row. Several whispers hit my ears, making my eye twitch at the words and my mind go back once more.

"It must be true!"

"Two women – disgusting!"

"How can they be so open about this? It's revolting!"

Only seconds after we've gotten into the hallways, my fake smile disappears, instead favoring a deep grimace as the words repeat in my head. Granted, this isn't the first time people have whispered about me behind my back, but this place is supposed to be… I don't know… Amazing! There shouldn't be rumors or discrimination about anything here…

"And I thought home was bad," I growl, glaring over my shoulder as the two of us stride through the halls.

"I understand," Sif sighs. "It seem that even with proper attire these people refuse to… back off?"

"That's right," I nod with a weak smile. "You're getting it. Remind me to write down a few more for you later."

"That would be appreciated," Sif laughs. "I would hate to return to Midgard and find myself lost merely because of dialects and language differences."

Aolani meows from my shoulder, head dropping against my lower joint as she relaxes into her place. Good thing my ninja kitty has such good balance, or she would be falling off left and right. Got to remember to ask Steve who exactly gave him this cat, considering she's already so well trained for ninja and assassin stuff. Not to mention how cuddly she is despite being only a few weeks old, if he was told correctly.

"Listen, Lyra," Sif sighs as we stop outside my room. "Do not let their mindless words bother you. While they blather on about pointless and false rumors, you are working towards something they could never dream of."

"Yeah, sure," I shrug. "But my plan is going to take forever to go through with. For a few months, he won't have me around to make sure he's even _reading_ the thing."

"That's not important," Sif waves off, smiling softly. "You are at least _trying_ to be helpful. Meanwhile, they all lean back in their chairs, griping about things that are of no concern of theirs nor even remotely based on fact."

Another cry from Aolani has us both sighing fondly before scratching at separate ears. With a quick farewell, I disappear into my room, quietly latching the door shut and flipping the lock, per usual. After a few days here, my female warrior friend thought it best to lock out any who may wish me harm, and somehow managed to get a few enchanters to shield my room. From what, who knows, but at least this space is now assuredly private and safe from whatever is out there and could be after me.


End file.
